Discovering Batman
by kalinmarie
Summary: Sarah Dawson lived a quiet, normal life - or so she thought. After being kidnapped by the Joker and rescued by Batman, her life turned upside down and she found herself harboring a big secret, one that could destroy Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne and change Gothom City forever. When discovering Batman, will she discover love? Or uncover even more lies and secrets that officers had
1. Chapter 1

Never in my life would I have though that I would be here, gripping onto a sliver of hope-literally. My knuckles were turning white as I painfully held onto the edge of an expensive balcony, the city busy under my terrified body. The cars went on, people continued walking, oblivious to what was happening right above them. Maybe, if one of them saw me, just barely holding onto life, I would have a chance. Or maybe, they are all the same, just like the Joker claimed. "Everyone is evil under the pretty layers, no one truly loves. Love is a joke, just like me and you." Maybe the world was truly hideous, just painted carefully with the most expensive of makeup to hide it's true colors, I thought as my fingers turned numb. The only hope that Gothom City still had was somewhere far away, the Batman, who was a mystery to everyone, wasn't here to save me, just like the Joker had said. Perhaps, the only things in this world that are really true, are the evil things. I was having trouble believing in good at the moment.

Those were my last thoughts, as my hands finally gave way, exhausted and numb from the winter chill. I closed my eyes and waited for the pain, but all I felt was the cold air on my skin and everything went black.

I woke up with legs tangled in silk sheets, my head resting on the side of a warm bed, pillows thrown around on the floor and end of the bed. This is most certainly not Heaven, I thought as I looked around. As wonderful as the room was, I doubted that my head would hurt this bad if it were truly Heaven, and judging by the lack of fire...no, not Hell.

The room was nicely furnished, art hung on the wall and knick-knacks that looked to be from another country stood proudly on a wooden shelf. Very homey, I thought as I stretched my aching limbs, but far too expensive to be truly comfortable to live in. I stood and tested the waters, not trusting my wobbly legs quite yet. I wrapped the smaller of the two quilts around myself and took a nervous peek out of the window. Where am I?

It was dreary outside, but it seemed fitting. Clouds hung low and the windowpane was wet with raindrops of different sizes. If I didn't know any better, I would swear I had been transported from Gothom City to England. All I saw was land, rolling hills and green grass. A garden was placed in the corner of the vast land, flowers peeking out happily despite the weather. Bats flew overhead, seeming comfortable here and clashing with the cheery garden. Darkness and light, I thought. Whoever owned this place seemed to enjoy clashing. There was definitely no woman's touch here, other than the garden, but even it seemed to display a classy flair, not so feminine with it's stone statues and other decorations.

Walking away from the window, I pushed the curtain back to hide the sky from my sight. A set of clothes had been set out on a dresser, brand new with tags hanging and all in my size. I refrained from looking in the mirror above the dresser, knowing I probably looked like a homeless person as opposed to a young and fiery college student. The Joker had his ways of taking smiles off of people's faces and replacing them with cloudy eyes and frowns.

Taking a deep breath, I took a step outside and gasped at what I saw. Somehow, it seemed that I landed myself in a castle. The walls were covered in a light tan color, big windows with patterned curtains and plush couches. On the other side, there were several classy white doorways, chandeliers hanging over me. The tile was cold on my barefeet and I found myself wondering where my shoes went.

"Ah! Madam, so happy to see you awake!" A British voice said, I turned around and saw an older man walking briskly towards me, a warm smile on his face. "Hello?" My voice wasn't as strong as I had hoped for, but my throat was so sore. "Oh, pardon my manners. It's been so long since we've had a guest! I'm Alfred, Alfred Pennyworth. I'm the butler here at Wayne Manor." Wayne Manor? How did I get here, of all places?

"H-how did I get here? All I remember was falling, and then..." I trailed off, not sure what had truly happened after I had finally let go.

"The Batman, he saved you. He and Master Wayne know each other rather well and he knew that this would be the safest place." He nodded to himself, taking my arm in his gently and smiling. "I'm sure you are worried about the Joker and his , all of them are gone." He said wistfully, turning a corner and opening an elegant door as a frown decorated his face. He seemed sad, talking about the deaths, although I couldn't understand why.

"Gone?"

"Well, Batman has made a vow to never kill anyone, but I believe the majority ended up dying from injuries from the Joker's abuse. As for the man in charge, however, well, the Joker killed himself. Batman left him hanging, right where he found you. The SWAT team found him but before they could take him to Arkham, he had broken his own neck." I cast my eyes downward, picturing the evil man dead. It felt too good to be true, freedom was at my fingers but I was too terrified to truly do anything about it. He deserved the death, especially after killing so many innocent people and leaving me to die along with the other captives.

I thought on Alfred's words as we continued the long trek through the mansion in silence and finally, it seemed as if we had arrived to our destination. "I'm sure Master Wayne would like to see you awake and bright-eyed, he was quite worried when you first came in." At the thought of meeting the Bruce Wayne, I grew nervous. I looked like a drowned rat and felt like one, too, but I had to thank him. After all, he did take me into his home at a short notice.

"Alfred, before we do that...how long have I been asleep?" Smirking, he opened the door and let out a laugh. "Well, you've been out of the loop for two days, although you have been holding full conversations so we aren't quite sure how rested you truly are." Great. One of the most famous and rich people in the world got to hear my insane ramblings in my sleep. Just what I wanted. I had hoped-in vain, apparently-that my exhaustion would keep me from the annoying sleep habit but I wasn't so lucky, it proved.

The worry over my sleep patterns flew away as Bruce Wayne turned around and let out a sigh, a smile taking over his face. "Good to see you up, we were worried." His voice was gruff and low, an accent just barely there. I had heard that he was born and raised in Gothom City, but his accent nearly matched Alfred's. Perhaps his butler had rubbed off on him.

"Thank you for everything, I can't imagine how much I've put you both out and I appreciate the kindness so much. I just wish I could find the Batman and thank him as well." I let out a nervous laugh, peeking at the large grand piano that Bruce stood next to. "Don't worry about that, it was no problem. As for Batman..I'll pass the word along." Bruce said, a humored smirk growing on his face.

"Sir, I believe I'll start lunch. Any requests?" Alfred had been so quiet and his voice startled me, apparently the Joker experience had made me more fidgety than I had thought.

"Make whatever is easiest." He replied. "And what about you, Miss?" Realizing he was now speaking to me, I shook my head. "Oh, no. I should leave soon, I don't want to be a bother."

Bruce sat at the piano, rolling his eyes. "You've been sleeping in a room by yourself for two days, you haven't been a bother. Besides, I'm sure you're hungry. Stay for a little while and let yourself heal from everything. We had to get a doctor out to stitch a few cuts on your stomach and he said that you need to take it easy for awhile, you need to relax."

As much as I wanted to argue, I knew he was right. I had been out on my own for almost ten years and I didn't like relying on people, especially people who I barely know, and I felt uncomfortable just staying for lunch, but I had my doubts about my physcial and emotional capability. My legs were still aching and apparently, I have several injuries that I hadn't noticed yet. Perhaps it would be better to hang low for awhile. Besides, I was still worried over who could be out there...the news may report that everyone is dead, but I felt sick just thinking about the potential of more villains lurking around unseen.

I had just looked death in the eye two days ago, I had been brave and I had survived, but it wasn't something that I wanted to do again.

"If you insist, Mr. Wayne."

Lunch was a quiet affair, much different than I had expected but nice nonetheless. We all sat around a small table in the large kitchen, apparently something that was rarely used. Mr. Wayne sat at the head and Alfred next to him, while I sat in the middle of the left side. I wasn't part of the family and I wasn't even a friend, just someone that was there, and I didn't want to intrude. Despite both of the men's reassurances and insistence, I still felt like I was in the way and

I was eager to return to normal life outside of the drama. Maybe I'd go on a vacation, somewhere far, far, far away from Gothom City and all of it's crime.

Alfred and Mr. Wayne kept the table from being awkward and overly silent, though. Their conversations hardly ever strayed from business, but I saw that they had a tight relationship and guessed that they were more like father and son than butler and boss. Mr. Wayne never seemed to ask much of him, and even stood to do the dishes himself and let Alfred take a break. Once Alfred left the room, I jumped up to help with the simple chore. For a few moments, we worked in silence. He washed and I dried. Every so often, he asked me something regarding the capture and near death, obviously trying to ease into the conversation, which I was glad for. It wasn't something I wanted to jump into.

"The Joker...his henchmen, they really are gone, right?" I asked slowly, fearing the answer. I honestly don't know what I would do after this if even one of them were still alive.

"I promise," He started, taking the towel from my hands. "They are all gone, I've personally seen them. They are going to be buried very soon. You don't have to worry anymore." He hung the towel on a hook above the sink and picked the dry dishes up from the sink drain, going from cabinet to cabinet until all of the dishes were in their place. He, like Alfred, seemed disheartened at the fact that they died, and before long, I couldn't stand my curiosity and had to ask.

"You seem upset about the deaths, not to sound heartless...but didn't they deserve death after what they put people through?" Mr. Wayne let out a breath and pushed up on the counter, folding his hands and rubbing a thumb over part of a small scar. "They deserved it, but I would rather them rot in prison, have the chance to think about what they did...maybe it wouldn't make a difference." He paused, seeming to think on his words. "Death seems to be an easy way out. It was done the second they took their last breath, I'm sure they aren't happy in Hell right now though." He laughed emptily and looked at me carefully, searching my eyes until I diverted my attention to something else other than him.

"All I care about is knowing that they are gone and can't hurt anyone anymore. That's the important thing, right?" Apparently finished with his speech, he hopped off of the counter and threw me a crooked smile. "I've never liked clowns, anyways."

I spent the rest of the day talking to Mr. Wayne, who had apparently taken the day off from work. He was surprisingly easy to get along with and didn't seem as self-centered and rude as the tabloids made him out to be. I had almost expected him to follow along with his playboy persona and go party that night, honestly...it is Saturday night, but he seemed content on the couch with a book in his hands and someone to converse with. I most certainly wasn't like his typical female company. I wasn't hideous by any means, but compared to the models that he kept around, I was below average.

So far, I had seen no proof of him being a playboy or even a rude person. He was quiet, seemingly humble and down-to-earth. Even his home displayed the simpleness that he seemed to radiate from inside. The manor was gorgeous and obviously expensive, decorated in the finest things, but throughout the house, there were pictures of his deceased family, sticky notes placed on the refridgerator and various books placed around. He was dressed casually, barefeet propped up on the coffee table before him and his black t-shirt straining against his muscular arms as he crossed them. Outside of the manor, he displayed himself as a proper, rich man who spent his time with fancy women and expensive cars, but on the inside, he seemed to be a normal person. Either he hid his true colors from me extremely well, or he was hiding himself from the world in a rather extravagant way. I was determined to figure out who Bruce Wayne truly was inside of his built-up exterior.

But as the night went on, he seemed to grow tense and was constantly taking peeks outside of the window and pacing, Alfred made a joke about him ruining the floor with his pacing, but Mr. Wayne paid him no mind. Finally, unable to take it any longer, I stood from my place on the couch and walked next to him. "Perhaps I should call a cab now and go home, I can tell something's wrong and I don't want to be a bother." Crossing his arms, he turned to me and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I just have a few things on my mind. You don't need to call a cab, I can drive you home if you feel alright to be alone. I don't want you to leave unless you know you can handle it." And with that, he loosened his posture and uncrossed his arms, shuffling his feet.

"I'd appreciate the ride. I'm sure I'll be fine, I need to get back into my normal life again and put this in the past." But truthfully, I was scared to death of being alone again.

With a nod, he excused himself and walked upstairs to go get his keys and shoes. I looked down at my barefeet with disdain and sighed. "Alfred, do you know what happened to the rest of my clothing?" I asked curiously, not even sure if I wanted to know the answer.

"Your shoes were gone when Batman caught you, I expect that they fell to the street as you let go of the banister. According to the police, there were several articles of bloodstained and cut up shirts and pants in a secluded part of the basement that you and the others were in, but they were taken away for evidence."

At the mention of the basement, I held back a shiver. We were kept in a small, dark basement for what seemed like forever. Water dripped from the tiny window until someone came in and placed bricks inside of the slot, taking away our last bit of hope of an escape. It was cold, and the henchmen seemed to enjoy watching us freeze half to death, and took away articles of clothing each day until we were in tears from the cold air. Mr. Wayne walked back down, two sets of keys in his large hands. "Ferrari or Porsche?" He said wryly, holding them both up with a smile.

And there's the Bruce Wayne I heard about...

We ended up in the Porsche, driving recklessly fast until I told him to slow down if he didn't want me to puke all over the creamy leather seats. Classical music played quietly in the background, filling the car with a peaceful ambiance as the street lights lightened the small car. We pulled into the city and I realized that I had to actually give him the address. My home wasn't something I was proud of, and if it were at all possible, I would've told him to drop me off somewhere before we got to my actual destination, but walking through the Narrows at night wasn't exactly something I wanted to do.

I told him the address and noticed him tense up, but he kept driving, albeit much silently. We had managed to hold up several conversations from everything to cars to his surprising music choice-Beethoven wasn't exactly something that I expected from playboy, billionaire, philanthropist Bruce Wayne-but after that, he bit his lip and said nothing, obviously uncomfortable, although if it was just from the shear fact that he was in the Narrows or if he didn't want to drop a woman off here, was beyond me.

"It's really not that bad." I lied through my teeth, trying to comfort him. "I live in the nicer area." Another lie, and I knew he could see through it. "No, Sarah. It is that bad. I've been in the Narrows, I've known people to die here, get mugged here, I've almost been mugged here. I'll drop you off, but I won't be happy about it. I just helped you from one bad situation and I feel like I'm putting you right back in another one." I kept quiet after that, unwilling to argue even more. I had no choice. I had a job, but not a very good one. I gave music lessons to children, and it paid, just not well. Once I finished up my college degree, maybe I could escape from my small apartment, but until then, I was stuck.

We finally got to my apartment building and I put a hand on the door, ready to open it until Bruce locked it back. "Here, take this. Call me anytime if you need me for any reason." He wrote a number on the back of a business card, red pen ink marking the obviously expensive card. "This is my business number," He pointed to the front where a fax and office number was written next to the Wayne Enterprise logo. "And this is my cellphone, you can reach me quicker on the cell. Like I said, anytime, wake me up or interrupt a meeting, I don't care."

"Thanks for everything, I can't even begin to express how much it means to me." He unlocked the car door, hopping out before I had a chance to even leave my seat and opened my door. "Stay safe, no more clowns, right?" His tone was light, but I knew there was a deeper meaning to it. "No more, I don't really like them, either."

If I could help it, I would never see another clown again.

I woke up in a cold sweat, hair drenched as if I had just taken a shower. I jolted up and threw my legs over the bed, turning my light on and sighing. Another sleepless night...

My eyes were framed with dark circles, looking like I had coated them with dark eyeshadow. They had once been a bright, shining blue, but the Joker had stolen that. Now, they seemed so dull and lifeless. On the outside, I looked normal, but on the inside, I was a ticking time bomb, just waiting to blow up. I hadn't slept a full 8 hours in a week, since I was at Wayne Manor and apparently slept for two whole days. I had contemplated therapy, but I knew I couldn't talk about what happened, not yet, after my friend Stacy had tried to mention it and I went into a panic attack. I needed help desperately, someone to stay with me and calm my nerves, but the only friend I had in Gothom City was Stacy and she already worked long hours at the hospital. I couldn't ask her to sacrifice more sleep just so I could get a couple hours of it. My only help was coffee, which I needed desperately right now. Might as well start my day, I thought as I took a peek at the clock next to my bed. 9 in the morning, a nice time to wake up if you weren't constantly tossing and turning during the night.

I walked to the kitchen and fixed a pot of coffee, making sure it was extra strong. I had a job interview to go to, and I still had work this afternoon. Five kids, two different instruments. It would be an interesting day, to say the least. As I sipped from my large mug, I crossed the small room and picked up my cellphone, planning to call Stacy and see if she wanted to meet up for breakfast, when it started ringing. Unknown caller...that was how the stalking from the Joker started. I knew that if I didn't answer, it would continue...if it was something bad. So, I took a deep breathe and accepted the call, closing my eyes and waiting for the inevitable.

As soon as I heard the warm voice, I sank onto my couch and let a tear run down. The Joker may have been dead, but he was still ruling my life.

"Sarah? Are you okay?" It was Bruce, which surprised me. I didn't remember giving him my number, nor did I think he would ever even think of me again. After all, he was the Prince of Gothom and I was some poor girl living in the Narrows.

"I'm fine, sorry. How did you get my number?" I collected myself and stood back up, dumping the rest of the coffee in the sink. I was antsy enough as it is, I doubted the caffeine would help as much as I would've hoped.

"I have my ways." He said with a laugh. "I was wondering if you'd like to get some breakfast or something, I'd like to ask you a few questions about what happened with the Joker if you would be okay with that. Plus, Commissioner Gordon found your wallet in the bag of stuff for evidence, figured you'd want to pick that up and I thought I'd save you some money from the vultures that are cab drivers."

"That sounds nice. I have to be at a job interview at 3, when could you be here?" I could hear a door closing in the background and he h'mmed quietly. "Give me 30 minutes?"

"That's fine with me. Thanks again." He hung up and I ran to me room, thoughts of a breakfast with Stacy completely forgotten. What on earth do you wear to breakfast with a billionaire? Not that I had many choices...

I threw open my closet door, snickering at the stomps from the floor above me as it hit my wall loudly. Mr. Piney, a grumpy old man who lived to yell at kids and, apparently, me, continued the hissy fit for another second but I shrugged it off, pulling a blouse off of a bright pink hanger and grabbing a pair of jeans that were folded on my dresser from laundry a couple nights ago. I didn't want to dress overly fancy, but I didn't want to look like, well, a hobo. I was thankful that I took a shower yesterday.

I pulled on a pair of brown boots once I was done dressing, grimacing at my wild hair. Not much could be done with my blonde curls, something that I quite unhappily inherited from my mother. I had always envied my sister's straight and easy to deal with hair. She had become the spitting-image of our father, who died five years ago just blocks away from my small apartment. His murder had been the most popular news story within thousands of miles quickly, but his murderer was never found. Our life had turned upside down, and we struggled for so long to get a sense of normalcy back. It seemed that just when my lfie took a good turn, it became haywire and dangerous once more. If only Batman had been around five years ago...

My thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. In typical Narrows fashion, it was old, cheap and broken, resulting in a whiny ring throughout the small place I had grown to call home.

I finished up my makeup, managing to accidentally smudge my eyeliner right before I left the room. I grabbed a tissue out of the bathroom and hurriedly fixed my mistake, running to the door quicker as he rang the doorbell again.

"Mr. Wayne! Sorry I took so long." I said as I opened the door, revealing a much nicer dressed man than I had seen in the manor. He wore a pair of black slacks and a white button up, sleeves pushed up to his elbows to reveal muscular arms covered in various scars. Interesting, I thought as I took a slightly longer peek at them. "Sarah, I told you-call me Bruce."

"Right, sorry again." I laughed nervously, trying to get comfortable in his presence again. It was much easier to feel at home next to the casual Bruce as opposed to the completely business man version. "Let me go grab my purse."


	2. Chapter 2

He had driven a different car this time, choosing to go on the "down-low" as he said, and drove his black BMW. It was slightly better than driving around in a bright colored Porsche. I didn't come from a poor family, but we were most certaintly not rich, and the last thing I wanted to do was bring more attention to myself. Reporters were already begging me to do interviews after finding out that I had been one of the hostages, and I didn't want to be in the spotlight anymore. That could be saved for the rich and famous, who actually enjoy it.

"So, anywhere in particular that you want to go?" He asked, taking a peek in his rearview mirror as he turned towards the city. On the brightside, he seemed much happier and easy-going than he did last time I saw him, but he still had a bit of an edge to him. He sat stiffly in his cushioned seat, gripping the black leather wheel when we went over any speedbumps or rougher areas.

"No, I'm fine with anywhere." I said honestly, I wasn't the pickiest person in the world and would eat almost anything.

"Bruce, are you alright? You seem like you're on edge about something." He took a look at me before taking a right turn-we were heading to the nicer side of the city, I realized. Towards Wayne Industries. As crime-ridden as Gothom City always was, it always seemeed much more peaceful around this part, and I always dreamt of finding a nice house around there and settling down.

"I'm okay, a friend and I had a sparring session last night. I'm just sore." I nodded, but didn't really buy into his excuse. He was acting weird, and I doubted that it was from a simple fight with a buddy. I swore that there was a new scar on his forearm, bright pink skin standing out against his tanned arm.

"Do your friends always fight that hard?" I wondered, gesturing towards his marked arms. I was typically more subtle, but I couldn't hold the question in for any longer. There was something off about Bruce Wayne, and I wanted to know what it was.

Bruce let out a nervous laugh, turning on a signal light and pulling into a small restaurant, definitely not a place that I could afford, I thought. "We get a little carried away sometimes." Tossing me a quick wink, he parked away from the other cars and hopped out before I did, once again opening my door.

"Who would've thought, billionaire-playboy Bruce Wayne is a gentleman." I grinned, allowing a subject change from something that he obviously didn't want to talk about.

His brawny and tall frame allowed him to take larger steps, keeping me a few steps behind him before he realized that he was leaving me behind, he slowed his quick pace and put a hand on the small of my back, walking at my side. "Sorry, guess I'm not that big of a gentleman, huh?" He said teasingly as a waiter hurried to open the sleek glass door, seemingly shocked that Bruce Wayne was there. It was a nice restaurant, but it definitely wasn't as fancy as the places that Bruce frequently visits. I had been there on a couple occasions for work related business and the food was moderately good, although over-priced.

As we walked in, the sweet smell of various breakfast foods flooding my nose. "Mr. Wayne! Welcome!" A small man walked out of the kitchen area, straightening his button-up shirt before coming closer. "Please, come with me! I give you best table!" He said, flashing a smile to go along with his thick Italian accent. Gothom City was full of different people with different accents, looks and personalities.

"Thank you, sir." Bruce thanked the nervous man, smirking to himself once we were sat at the small table in the corner, the most private area. Red shaded lights above the chairs filled the space with ambiance and made it feel more like a restaurant for romantic evenings as opposed to a popular chain famous for breakfast.

"I've never been here before, but it seemed quiet enough." He spoke up once the Italian was gone to fetch menus, wiping imaginary dust from the shiny wooden table.

"I've been a few times for business, it's pretty good."

"Any recommendations?" He asked easily, glancing to his side before rising and grabbing a cell-phone out of a teenaged boys hand. "No pictures, kid. Got it?" His voice changed into a deeper growl, something that seemed familiar to me for some reason...

He returned after tossing the boy his phone back, taking his seat again. His personality seemed to change in mere seconds and he returned to the business Bruce Wayne. He appeared to have more than one side, and I was curious to how many more I would find if I stuck around long enough. First, he's an easy-going man, doing dishes and letting people into his home just for the sake of helping, then he's a serious business man, driving expensive BMW's and making grown men practically fall at his feet, then he's determined, fierce and _obviously not a fan of iPhones..._

"Um, the garden omelet is wonderful." I replied, slightly taken aback, which he seemed to notice quickly.

"Sorry about that. I know the paparazzi is after both of us for different reasons at the moment, and I know exactly where that picture would end up-right on the front page of the newspaper." _But what is your excuse for your other personalities?_ And there was something eerily familiar about that deeper voice. I let out a laugh, trying to hide my curiosity.

"I understand completely. It must get tiring to be followed around 24/7, at least they give me the occasional break. I think they're afraid I'm going to go insane." It didn't help that all of my friends were also waiting for me to blow up because of the ordeal. Stacy was still convinced that I desperately needed a therapist but I was nervous enough as it was to even mention random tidbits to Bruce later on. How would I spill my heart out completely without really having a meltdown?

Shortly after, the Italian man, who finally introduced himself as Alfonso, took our orders (two garden omelets, two waters) and scurried off, still seeming to be thrilled at the simple fact that Bruce Wayne was sitting there.

For awhile, we ate in silence, Bruce complimenting my choice in food and me making comments on the woman who had replaced the teenaged boy after he left. She was obviously just as interested in Bruce as Alfonso is and I noticed her giving him sideglances several times a minute.

"So, about what happened..." He began, looking up at me to gauge my reaction. He was being cautious, just like everyone else.

"Just spill, Bruce. If you probe too deeply, I'll let you know. I'm sick and tired of people tip-toeing around me just because of what happened. I'm fine."

"Alright. I was wondering if you remembered any of the other hostages, what their names were, what they looked like..anything, really." It didn't take much digging for me to remember. Those people were all I had for so many months, my only hope was in them and I wasn't about to forget them.

"We weren't given real names, the Joker gave us nicknames and he told us that if we told any of the others the truth, they would be killed. There were three other women, one redhead, one brunette and one with dark black hair. All of us looked different and we all got different themed names. I was Diamond...he said I was tough and valuable, the redhead was Dollface, he said she was too beautiful to be real...the brunette was Jane, because she was too plain and the black haired woman, she was Stone. She was the beacon of hope for us for weeks until it seemed like he just broke her. She was so focused on the bad after that and he said she had a heart of stone all along. I suppose he was right." I took a deep breath, feeling my throat threatening to close as my eyes watered. How I wish I knew their real names...just to know the real them. "There was one man, Dollface's twin..he lived for two days, his name was Fidget. He had panic attacks." Fidget had been special, he was so, so frail and dainty. Suffering from so many health issues in such a bad place, he was bound to pass away, but part of me was happy that he died so soon, before the bad truly came.

"Do you know their ages?" He asked, digging a handkerchief out of his pocket for me.

"They were all around my age other than Stone, she was in her late 30's,maybe early 40's, I'd say." I carefully wiped my eyes, praying I wasn't leaving makeup stains or causing people to look even more. Sure enough, the black makeup smeared on the off-white material. "I can wash this for you.." I said slowly, lifting it up with a smile.

"Commissioner Gordon believes he found Stone, but the others haven't been identified, but they did find that exact number of bodies. They are doing several medical checks to be sure...oh, don't worry about that. Alfred can have it washed for me."

I let it sink in, all of those people, completely gone. We had all grown so close and promised each other that we would find a way out, especially after Stone seemed to drift to the other side and Fidget passed away. We were so sure that we would find a way out together. If only someone had come to help just a few days before, all but two would've been alive.

"Are you okay, Sarah?" He said suddenly, knocking me out of my thoughts. "I've been calling your name for awhile. You seemed out of it there for second."

"Sorry, just letting that news dissolve a bit. Do you think we could leave now?" I smoothed my blouse, reaching for my purse at the floor. "Of course." He called for a check, quickly signing it without giving Alfonso a second glance or a thank you, and helped me up out of the chair, tossing a large tip on the floor.

We walked to the car in silence, giving me time to process...too much time. "Please say something before I think myself to death." He opened my door again, chuckling at my words.

"Tell me about your work." And with that, I talked his ear off for the next hour and a half as we journeyed home, telling him about all of the children I worked with and the parents that drove me towards insanity. He was interested enough and seemed to enjoy the topic, so I kept going. It was nice to focus on something happy and carefree, at least for a little while.

Soon, I arrived back at home and had to prepare for the interview and music lessons, he dropped me off with a promise of seeing me again soon, which surprised me. I still wasn't sure why a billionaire would want to be in my company. "Give me a call if you need me, anytime, just like I said before. It's nice to have someone normal around for a change."  
>"Just wait, you haven't seen my crazy side yet." I shot him a wink, gathering my things out of his car before we caught everyone's eye. "I'd like to see more, no matter how crazy it may be." He threw me a charming smile, giving me a peek back into the nice personality that I saw at his mansion.<p>

I'm proud to say that I kept from letting out a schoolgirl sigh until I got into my apartment.

_Oh, I'm in trouble._


	3. Chapter 3

The next week went by without a hitch, Bruce called a couple of times just to talk, but I never found a reason to call him and take him up on his offer until Friday night, when I was left without a choice.

**Flashback:**

"I'll see you guys next Friday! Be good and make sure you practice song #3!" I yelled out over the happy, chatting kids. Two girls, three boys, three different instruments. We went from piano, to guitar, to violin all in one night and I was absoloutly exhausted. On a good note, I managed to get out of there before the sun completely set. If I hurried, I could make it home before it got dark. Walking through the Narrows at night isn't something I would choose. I decided to ditch my car since my work building was only a mile and a half away. I could use the work out.

Once I got near the alleys, I picked up my pace. The sun was setting quicker than I would've liked and my anxiety was getting the best of me. As usual, I heard cat calls and whistles from men lurking in the dark corners, it was nothing new, and the majority of the time, the men were all bark and no bite...this time, I wasn't so lucky.

I spotted one of them as they drew closer to me, obviously trying to stay quiet. Why didn't I bring my pepper spray with me today..I thought, reaching to bring my bag closer to my body. I had a few muscial books in there, it would pack a punch if I needed it to. "Come on, honey. What's the hurry?" He called, raspy voice grating on me like a nail on chalkboard.

I felt a large hand on my bare arm, and I swung my bag into his face, promptly knocking him to the ground. I glanced at him and let out a gasp. Why is he here?

I took off, shoving my heels off of my feet and throwing them into the man's gut, knowing I would be quicker without them to stumble around in. As I ran, I grabbed my old flip-phone from my jean pocket, dialing the most recent number.

"Hello?" Of course, it would be Bruce...

"Bruce, I need help." My voice came out raspy and deep, as if I had been screaming. I could feel my nerves start working up and I knew that if I didn't get out fast, I would have a panic attack in the alleyway. "Sarah? What's wrong? Where are you?" I heard a door slam on the other line, trying to focus on something else but the pain in my feet from the concreted ground and my edginess.

"I'm in the Narrows, near my house..someone was chasing me. I need to get away from here before I have a panic attack." I talked fast, still trying to run but failing. I had been running on complete adrenaline and it was fading fast.

"I'll be there in a few minutes. Calm down and stay on the phone, alright? Don't hang up on me, just talk. Tell me about your day." Because I totally want to talk about my day right now, I thought sarcastically. I knew what his concern was and I bit my tongue, thankful he would help.

"Well, I had to wrangle five kids around all day." I started, letting out a breathe, allowing myself to rest while I waited for an expensive car to drive by and rescue me.

We talked for another ten minutes at the most until he sped towards me in a black sports car, blending in with the dark night. He got out of the car, wrapped an arm around me and pushed me towards the opened passenger door. I didn't argue with the help and let myself relax. Once again, Bruce Wayne managed to save my butt. As we drove off, I stole a glance at his profile, his face was rigid and unmoving as he glared out the window, and again, I saw something in his face that struck me. So familiar and comforting, even when he was distressed and angry.

"Who attacked you? Did you get a good look at him?" He finally broke the silence, looking over at me. He seemed to have composed himself, his face softening.

"Bruce...it was Alfonso."

**Flashback Over:**

I woke up yet again in Wayne Manor, resting on the same bed and on a rainy day, just like before. But this time, something was different. I wasn't alone and confused. I tossed a glance to the window, surprised to see Bruce sleeping on the cushioned chair on the corner. I doubted his position was all that comfortable to sleep in for long, with his feet propped up on the window seat and head lolled over on the wooden arm of the chair. I grabbed one of the small throw pillows on the bed and tossed it towards his head, the fringe and beads decorating it thrashing against each other. "Ow!" He jumped up, the pillow falling to the floor.

"Oh, that didn't hurt. It's a pillow, be a man." My voice sounded just as bad as last night, making me cringe. Sounding like a man wasn't really my preference. "You didn't have to stay in here, Bruce. I was fine." I smoothed my shirt out, smiling at him. I was thankful that he let me stay in his home again, even though he didn't owe me a thing. It was making me rethink a lot of my previous views on him, mostly formed through stories from newspapers and TV. Despite their harsh stories, it seemed like Bruce Wayne was the exact opposite of what he potrayed to be. But why hide it? If you are a good man, wouldn't that help the image? I was determined to find out why he was so set in stone, so different on cameras and out in town.

"I tried staying in my room for awhile, but you kept screaming." He sat up, propping his elbows on the chair. "I couldn't let you be alone, not after what happened."

"Thank you. Really, I can't even express how much your help means to me. Who would've thought, Bruce Wayne is really is a nice guy." I could see him getting uncomfortable after the compliment, which was odd. Surely, he got hundreds of compliments every day from women and me alike. Why would an average girl from the Narrows effect him?

"It's no problem, Sarah. I told you that I would be here if you needed me." He rolled up his blue shirt-sleeves, the cotton material of the button-up wrinkling from his action. "I'm not that bad of a guy, despite the newspapers." Winking at me, he walked towards the door, nodding towards a bag on the dresser. "Alfred picked you up some more clothes. You're disgusting, go shower." His tone was teasing as I lifted myself up from the bed, grabbing the pillow from the floor and throwing it towards him. "Or maybe you are a jerk, go away!" He caught the pillow and chuckled, tucking it under his arm.

"Maybe I should keep this out of your reach."

I spent the day relaxing in Wayne Manor, taking a bath after Bruce's several suggestions and let myself take it easy. Bruce and I talked more about the hostages and he gave me info on just what happened to Stone. According to Commissioner Gordon, she had killed herself right before the Joker snapped his own neck. The news made my skin crawl, imagining the once so happy and strong woman becoming so weak and twisted.

Once we ate lunch, Alfred and Bruce retreated to his office for a few moments. They spent over half of the meal in hushed voices, talking about something that they obviously didn't want me knowing about. Bruce seemed much more tense after Alfred began the quiet conversation and I was concerned. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. They had been up there for over an hour, what were they doing?

I walked up the old stairs, taking a long look at the intricate carvings on the rail. Whoever designed the house obviously had very expensive taste. The quiet, elegant manor seemed to match it's inhabitants well. _Bruce._ Even when he was drooling on a chair and being beaten by pillows, I thought wryly, seemed to have an air of class around him.

Once I reached the door, I couldn't bring myself to knock. _Curiosity killed the cat_, I thought. I shouldn't eavesdrop...

"Alfred, I've got to do something about this. I can only do so much as Bruce Wayne, it's going to take a stronger force to take down Alfonso." Bruce argued, voice raising as he grew more anxious.

"Sir, if you leave now, Sarah will suspect something." Suspect something? _Like I'm not already curious_... "More and more murders are happening each day, I can't sit by and watch, Alfred." I heard footsteps growing closer and reached up to knock quickly, hoping they would think I just came by for, well, my original purpose.

Bruce opened the door, a smile taking over. It was forced, that much I could tell. "Sorry we took so long, we're planning another party and I had to call a few different caterers and decide that we wanted." He explained smoothly, taking me by the elbow lightly as we walked back down the staircase. I tried to turn my attention from his touch to something else, getting too close would be foolish for me and I already felt myself beginning to feel affection for him. He was too much of a puzzle, too many sides for me to discover, and I knew I wouldn't let whatever it was that we had between us go until I found out just why he acted the way he did, especially not after over-hearing that confusing conversation and seeing the familiar look in his eyes when he was so furious in the car, something he blamed purely on Alfonso and his sleazy minions.

We walked towards the living room, a fire already roaring. This, by far, was my favorite part of Wayne Manor. It was filled with beautiful antique furniture from various countries, lit up with golden tinted lights and the light from the red flames. It felt as if you had been transported into a much more peaceful era and place. Bruce is obviously so much more comfortable here, I thought, remembering his stiffness when we were out to breakfast. As much as he seemed to love the attention and glamor and glitz on the outside, I could tell that his feelings were the exact opposite on the inside. He hid it well enough to act out the playboy persona.

"Bruce, I know I've said it a dozen times, but you must live in the most gorgeous place in the world." I commented, running a light hand on the books stacked in a painted bookshelf.

"Thank you," He replied as he took a seat on the tan tapestry couch. "It's my pride and joy, even better than the expensive cars." I raised an eyebrow, stealing a glance at him.

"_Gasp_, a playboy that treasures a home more than a Porsche?" Bantering with him was surprisingly comfortable, he always laughed everything off and took my random comments in stride, so I returned the favor to him. He seemed to be more comfortable during it, so I kept it up as much as I could. If an easy relationship without paparazzi is what he needed, then I would happily give it to him.

"Listen, Sarah...I was wondering if you would be more comfortable to talk more about what happened. I know it's hard to talk about the experience but as much as you could possibly relay..well, it would be appreciated and put to good use." He said, gesturing towards the seat next to him and inviting me to sit. "Yeah, that's fine. What do you need to know?"

"Nothing in particular." He stated as I sat down, crossing my legs when they brushed against his. _No fangirling over Bruce Wayne._ "Anything that you want to talk about."

"Well, I guess we could start from the beginning and see how far I manage to get."

**Flashback:**

"Kids, settle down, please!" I spoke up, having to yell over the children's voices as they rambled on to each other about their lessons. Another work day over. I stepped over the doorway, letting my co-worker know, AKA designated babysitter until the kids went home to their foster families, that I was heading out. It was a cold day in Gothom City, prompting me to take my car instead of walking like usual.

I hopped in my old beat-up Honda Accord, the blue paint chipping from the door. It had seen it's better days but still run moderately well. I drove half of a mile without a hitch, then I started getting into the Narrows. I heard a bang on the roof, prompting me to speed up a tad. Probably just a punky kid, I thought, trying to calm my nerves. The last thing I remembered was letting out a scream when I heard a gunshot and felt blood leaking down from my shoulder, glass flying everywhere.

I woke up in a cold basement, a small flashlight in the middle of the concrete floor, attempting to light the room in vain. Laughter floated from the other room, closed off with wooden pallets, stained with red. I prayed it wasn't blood. "Hey, newbie." A voice spoke up. _I'm not alone._

A bang broke through the silence, wooden pallets falling to the floor as a man covered in white makeup broke through, gun at his side. "Welcome to the party, Diamond. No speaking unless spoken to or I have your head. Don't tell a soul your real name-this is all about new beginnings, huh? New life. Hope you enjoy your stay." He paced the floor, playing with the trigger on the gun. "This chatterbox here is Dollface. Real sweet girl but she just doesn't," He slammed the gun into her face, blood splattering out and matching her vivid hair. "know when to shut up. That's a lesson you'll learn soon, Diamond, or else you'll get the same treatment. I'm sure you wouldn't want your pretty face to get like mine, hm?" He squatted in between us, shoving the gun into the redhead's cheek until she cried out in pain, tears leaking from her piercing blue eyes. "Ple-please stop. I'll be q-quiet now!" She yelped, gripping her hands together until they were turning purple.

"Talk again, and that nerd over there gets it." He pointed with the gun, bringing my attention to another person. The small man lay there silently, unmoving except his blinks and shudders.

"Call me Joker." The clown said, walking up the stairs to leave the room.

I spent the next two days in silence, save for the screams coming from upstairs.

**Flashback Over:**

By the time I was finished relaying the first day in captivity, I was mentally exhausted. I had never wanted to go back there, emotionally or physically, but I knew it had to be done in order to help other people. Surely, I wasn't the Joker's only survivor. If I had the chance to help, I would do anything.

"Sarah.." He started, putting a large hand on my knee as he seemed to allow the story to sink in. "I am so sorry that you had to go through any of this." I suspected he had more to say, but he stopped himself there. He seemed to guard his words so carefully, as if they would shatter people, which amazed me. After being pounded so hard by the public, he still maintained a respectful attitude...when he wasn't accused of being in a drunken rage or acting like a buffoon. But still, I had yet to see that side of Bruce Wayne, and it that wasn't a person I desired to meet.

"Thanks. What can you do, right? Life likes to pound people down, you just have to show it who's boss sometimes." I ended the subject on a light note, standing from the couch and taking another look around the room. The fire had started to die down somewhere along the way, making the room filled with dark ambiance. So not a healthy atmosphere for me right now, especially not with Bruce around, I thought. "Well, I better get going. It's getting late and I really don't want to have another run in with the Narrow's finest."

"Move away, then." He spoke suddenly, raising from the couch. I laughed until I saw his face, realizing he was entirely serious. "Bruce...I can't just move away. I live there for a reason - I can't afford a place anywhere else." I gestured around the room, clad with expensive furniture and trinkets. "Not all of us are billionaires, remember?" He nodded slowly, a thoughtful look appearing on his face. I wasn't quite sure what to think of it, but it kind of intimidated me.

"Move in here, then."


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note:I hope you all are enjoying my little fanfiction piece! Don't forget to leave comments! I love hearing everyone's opinions! :) **

My mind was still reeling the next day over Bruce's offer. _Move in Wayne Manor?_ With _the_ Bruce Wayne? The idea was absolutely insane, yet so tempting. I could escape from the Narrows and live a good life again, just like when I was younger. I wouldn't have to worry about murders or break-ins or rapists on the streets...but I knew I could never accept it. As nice as Bruce had been, I couldn't bring myself to just impose so suddenly. We had known each other for less than a month. Why was he so willing to help? It was like he was hiding something, like he knew something that I didn't. I hadn't gotten myself any closer to finding things out about his odd life, I had just managed to make everything even more confusing, after over-hearing his conversation with Alfred, things got even worse. _Who is Bruce Wayne?_

"Miss Sarah! Tommy is pulling my hair again!" A curly-haired girl broke through my reverie, her tiny hands on her hips as she gave me a look that I had grown used to. She would make one heck of a teenager, she already acted like one at 5 years old. "Where is he?" I asked, letting her lead the way. Tommy Kyle, a 6 year old bully with a passion for pulling on girls hair and biting, had managed to land himself in trouble yet again. He was in his 7th foster home in only 2 years, a large feat for such a small child. I had never met such a trouble kid before, even after 5 years of working up close and personal with the foster care system. He was a bad case, but I knew he could be saved. He just needed the right person in his life, and I hoped I could set a good example until he was shipped away yet again.

Sure enough, Tommy sat in the corner, an arrogant look on his pinched face. "She started it." He grumbled, refusing to look my way. The floor, after all, was much more interesting.

"Then how 'bout you come over here and explain to me just what happened, Tommy? Or should we hear Abby's side of the story first?" Abby stuck out her bottom lip, prepared to use her puppy dog face if need be. She knew that she was good at getting her way.

"She made fun of me." He spoke up, staring her down as she continued her pout. "She said I was stupid and that's why mommy didn't want me no more." His southern twang slipped out, already disappearing after a couple months in Gothom. He came here from Florida, like many of the other children, he'd seen his fair share of the world. His mother, a drug addict, traveled anywhere that offered drugs and men and found her way in Gothom City before dropping him off behind a dumpster, promising that she would return with food.

Of course, she never came back.

"Tommy, you know that's not the truth. She just wanted to give you a better life. You aren't stupid, you just need to try a bit more and act a little nicer, okay?" I chucked his chin, forcing him to look my way. His dark blue eyes found my brown ones and I swear, I saw tears just lurking beyond the lids. He was so strong for a little boy and it broke my heart, knowing he didn't feel safe and secure enough to let out his emotions. "And Abby, if I hear you being mean to him again, no matter what he did or said, you will be suspended from lessons for two weeks. Got it?" For a 5 year old, she was extremely driven and passionate about music, specifically the piano, and I knew the threat would keep her out of trouble. Unlike Tommy, she was an easy enough case and it was easy to change her mind about things.

She snuffled, head full of curls bouncing. "Fine, Miss Sarah." And with that, the drama of the day was over. Typically, the kids refrained from acting up too badly so they could just get everything over with as soon as possible, but I normally expected one break-down a day. When working with troubled children, you had to expect imperfection.

I worked for my remaining 3 hours, attempting to decide on my answer to Bruce. I couldn't accept it, obviously, but I had to come up something to say to him...I had no reason to refuse it, no reason behind staying in the Narrows and he would most definitely use that to his advantage. We had dinner plans this evening and I just hoped I wouldn't make a fool out of myself.

The moment I grabbed my purse from it's hook, I had children hanging on my leg, begging me to stay for just a few minutes longer. As usual, leaving was the hardest part of the day, especially for Abigail. Every evening, I felt like I was abandoning them all. If I could just get away from the Narrows...I could adopt a few of my own one day. I knew what foster homes could be like, and all but one of mine had been absolutely terrible. I could help change some minds, help children find an escape and offer them a home, not just a quiet place with music. Maybe I could mention something to Bruce, after all, he was there once, right?

"Guys, I'll be back on Monday, I promise. I have to get going now, be good for Emily!" Emily, a saintly woman in her mid 30's, was my partner in crime at work. She had a heart of gold and I had never seen her get frustrated with the children, hence why she got the later shift, when the kids were more hyper. "Good luck with Mr. Wayne!" She yelled out, taking a seat while the kids settled in at the T.V. We basically ran a big daycare, giving foster families a chance to get a break from the hardships of having troubled kids and letting the kids focus on creativity and fun instead of school 24/7. The shift started at 12AM, right after the youngest got out of school, and ended at 8PM. It was a hard job, but fulfilling.

"Thanks, Em! Call me if you need me!" I threw my hood over my hair, rain pounding on the concrete. Typical day in Gothom, I thought, thankful I had a car to escape to. After the "incident" I had become more careful than before, even in the good parts of the city.

I drove a quick 5 miles to Stacy's apartment building, rain dripping down from the old roof. Even the nicer parts of Gothom had their faults.

The rain continued on as I climbed out of the car, clothes soaked by the time I got to her door. According to her, my clothes were all unworthy of Bruce Wayne's presence, and she had plans for me. Despite my insistence that we were just friends and would only ever be friends, she was adamant on making him fall in love with me.

"Sarah! Come on, I already have two dresses set out for you..."

The evening with Bruce went well, and one dinner turned into two, then three, then four. I found myself there almost every other day, getting a peek into the billionaire's life outside of models and money, as the paparazzi said. I had been noticed a week or so ago, people growing suspicious when they saw my old car around the manor that is typically only home to sports cars that cost more than my whole apartment building. So far, the rumors remained nice enough, people suspecting that I was either a secret long-term girlfriend or perhaps a long lost family member. Bruce and I had chosen to remain silent on the matter until that was impossible.

Still, I had no leads on who he really was. I hadn't seen one hint of his playboy lifestyle, nor had I been chased away by his apparently dumb mind. Everyone assumed that he was an ignorant, stupid playboy who got everything handed to him on a silver platter, but for some reason, I doubted that.

And I still hadn't given him my answer about living there.

He had asked several times, wanting my decision, but I hadn't decided yet. The Narrows grew weirder and weirder every day, murders popping up everywhere and no leads to be found. This just spurred him on, using it as another excuse to get me out of that area. "They aren't people to mess around with, Sarah." He insisted, "If they got to you, they wouldn't play nice." For some reason, I suspected that he knew something about the criminals. His worry for me was too serious. Either that, or he was just insane and planned on kidnapping me, and honestly, with his sheer size, if he wanted to do that then I knew he would've already done it.

There was still a part of my mind that knew he was a good man with a secret, a big one that was probably worthy of hiding.

I forced myself to stop thinking for a moment, mind-churning over the facts..or lack thereof. I had suspicions on what his secret could be, but nothing set in stone, nothing I could be positive about. I found myself caring less about it though, and caring more about the man himself. He really was a joy to be around, quiet but witty and very smart. He was definitely a man of few words, but it seemed that every word that slipped by his tongue managed to charm me even more.

I swiped eyeliner and shadow over my eyes, eager to start the day. I had plans with Bruce and a quiet night at home with corny romance novels. I shrugged on a black tank top and an old college sweatshirt, tossing my brown boots in the closet trade them for the more used black pair. I did a half-up and half-down style on my curls, attempting to make myself look a little less lazy. Bruce had seen me at my worst and after getting to know the man better, I knew he wouldn't mind my casual attire.

Within 30 minutes, I arrived at the manor, Bruce lazily walking down the steps to meet me with an odd expression on his face. As I got out of the car, his gait quickened. "Sarah, are you alright?!" He spoke hurriedly, reaching the end of the staircase. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"There was just another murder in the Narrows, they left a note saying they were looking for a girl named Diamond." I let out a shaky breath, stomach churning as he continued. "According to them, they had plans for her because she ruined their boss' plans. They promised to stop their murders after they claimed their prize." He spat out the last word, obviously disgusted, but that wasn't my concern.

They're after me again, just like the Joker told me.

I felt myself creep up to the brink of a panic attack, tears leaking out of my eyes as I stood silently, letting things sink in. Bruce slid an arm around me, supporting my body before I fell to the concrete. Just as we walked in the door, I felt rain start pounding on my hair, fitting to my mood. When did my life turn into a nightmare?

After an hour or two, I felt myself calming down, the safety of the Manor comforting me. I had so many questions for Bruce, like how he found out about the murder, the note, before anyone else, before the news even covered it, but they could wait until later. For now...I wanted to pretend that things were okay and normal. Alfred slaved away in the kitchen, humming a familiar tune, while Bruce paced the floors, on the phone with Commissioner Gordon. I had never seen him so angry or stern, and if I didn't know him better, I would've found myself frightened.

He hung up angrily, phone shoved into his pockets as he rubbed his face with the other hand, face suddenly looking years older. I'm not the only one effected by this, I thought.

"Bruce, why don't you sit down? You'll wear holes into floor." I laughed out, trying my best to comfort him in any way I could. He opened his mouth, a retort obviously right at his lips, but he stopped himself and sat down next to me, allowing himself to relax for a moment. I allowed myself to examine him up close, noticing tiny scars tattooing his body. He had a few small ones on his eyebrow and near his eye, one across his nose and several larger ones going down his neck, still pink and new. What on Earth does this man do for a hobby?

"I'm sorry." He murmured, leaning his back on the couch and blocking my view of his scars there. "I just don't know who would have this vendetta against you. The Joker is gone, we were so sure that all of his henchmen were dead, but obviously somethings going on. Someone that knows about you through him. We just have to dig deeper and keep you safe."

"I guess going back home is out of the picture." I looked towards him and muffled a laugh at his expression. "um, duh." It seemed to say, seemingly shocked that I would even bring up going back to the Narrows. "Obviously." He nodded, a smile creeping on his face. "That wouldn't be a smart idea."

The rest of the evening went rather well, despite the circumstances. Bruce and I tried to keep our minds off of the subject, keeping up conversations on everything to literature to music. He beat me at Chess and Scrabble, his moves proving that he was much more intelligent than the paparazzi claimed.

He fled the manor around 9PM, apparently due to work, although it seemed a bit fishy, Alfred insisted that it happened quite often. I paid it no mind and prepared myself for another night in the manor, letting out a sigh. I didn't want to become a leech, depending on someone else to support me, but it seemed that Bruce was my only option.

I fell asleep quickly, body giving into the pressure as soon as I hit the fluffed pillows, but I was awoken just a couple hours later, the balcony doors opened as a dark shadow engulfed the room.

_Batman._

I couldn't bring myself to be afraid of him.

Sure, everything about him had the potential to be deadly, completely lethal. His voice reminded me of thunder, gravelly and powerful, and his sheer size was enough to make any criminal shake in their boots, but he saved my life, and I knew in my heart that he wouldn't hurt me. If anything, he'd be the one to save me from this horrific nightmare.

"Stay here, and don't go into the Narrows." He spoke at last, mouth set in a firm line as I grew closer. "People know I've been around Bruce, they'll know to come here. How is it any safer?" I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.

"I'll keep you safe." His voice was quieter, body seeming to soften as I stood face to face with him, height different obvious. I touched the side of his mask, staring into his mask-clad face and looking into his deep brown eyes. A realization hit me like a brick. Those eyes were familiar, even his voice, his shape, it was all familiar...

"Bruce?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Note:**

**This is the shortest chapter yet, but now we are starting to get into the meat of the story. Chapter 8 is currently being written and it's almost finished. Prepare for the drama to begin in chapter 9 or 10. Forgive me if the storyline doesn't have enough action quite yet, it's getting there, but first I wanted us to get to know Sarah more and build a foundation for her and Bruce's relationship. This is my first multi-chapter fic as well so I'm learning as I go. Don't forget to comment and let me know what you all think!**

As soon as his name went passed my lips, I regretted them. I had no doubt in my mind on the subject - Bruce is Batman, or Batman is Bruce, but I could see the worry and hurt in his eyes the second I spoke. There's a reason he keeps things a secret, why he keeps things separated. It's safer, and it allows him to maintain a normal life. I had possibly just ruined that by pure luck and too much curiosity.

He walked over to the balcony, head hanging as if he were in shock, trying to process. I half-expected him to flee, but instead, he closed the glass doors up, pulled the curtains and locked everything before turning back and slipping off his mask, eyes burning into my skin as I looked anywhere but at him. "How did you..._how_?" His voice seemed pained and completely shocked, surprising me enough to make me look back at him. He wasn't the type of man to display emotion, his face was always calm and collected and to see him so torn and worried, it made me feel even more guilty.

"I put two and two together. Your eyes, your voice, your body...it's all the same. Plus, your late night business meetings, the scars...it wasn't difficult." I said, choosing to go honestly. "CEO's of big companies don't typically get that scarred up. Normally, they cry if they break a nail." I tried to bring humor into the situation, failing miserably. A small smile grew on his face as he sat on the edge of my temporary bed, covered in silk sheets and a deep red comforter that was plush enough for a mattress itself.

"I never wanted to bring anyone into this with me..Alfred had to know, but not you. Especially not you. You've been through too much already."

He slipped his hand through his hair, his normal composure completely gone. His normally sleek, professional appearance was traded in for a rough, manly attitude, fitting for a vigilante. He wasn't one to mess with as Batman or Bruce Wayne, power seemed to flow through his veins whether he wanted it or not, but he chose to use everything that happened to him for good as opposed to bad. That in itself was enough to make my decision on what to do easier. I wouldn't tell a soul.

"I won't tell anyone..." I promised, taking a seat next to him, a humorless grin appearing on my face as I took in the stark difference between his armor and my floral pajama pants. "I promise you, I'll keep the secret safe..just like you're trying to keep me safe."

"It's a burden." The warning was real and serious, but it didn't change my mind in the least.

"So is taking care of me."

I didn't get much sleep that night, my thoughts swirled around my head and refused to stop. Every time I closed my eyes, I thought of Bruce, fighting evil, insane, terrifying villains by himself. We had grown rather close in the last couple of months, I suppose almost dying and being saved by a man several times would do that to people. He had become one of my best friends, a confidant and a safe place...imagining him practically on death's door every single night...it pained me more than any of the scars that the Joker left.

Speaking of scars...now I had my answer. The pink scars that marred his body, some small, some large...they were all for justice. How people could claim that Batman was a villain was beyond me. Everything he did was all for Gothom and he was willing to sacrifice everything - from cars, to money, to his life as Bruce Wayne - for this corrupted city.

I finally rolled out of my bed around 4am, knowing that sleep wouldn't be finding me that night. Unsurprisingly, I wasn't alone. Bruce sat on the couch in the living area, TV muted but turned on as he flipped through channels, a bored expression on his face. Either he hadn't notice me - which I doubted, considering his training - or he chose to ignore me. Either way, I used it as a moment to think and observe.

His eyes were bloodshot, probably from lack of rest, hair wet and curling ever so slightly on the nape of his marked neck. Three small scars were there, one dipping down under the neck of his white t-shirt.

He finally turned to look at me, a blank look appearing on his tired face.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked, finally choosing a seemingly random channel. Hallmark Channel...definitely random, either that or he was much weirder than I first expected, I thought wryly.

"No. Too much on my mind, I guess." I took a seat next to him, propped my feet up on the table and stole the remote, laughing at his faux offended face. "What? You want to watch the Hallmark Channel, Mr. Vigilante?" He opened his mouth to speak as he glanced at the TV, and shut his mouth quickly.

"I'm rather attached to When Calls the Heart, actually." His straight face made me lose it, complete seriousness without a hint of sarcasm or humor on his stony face. I pictured Batman on the couch, dabbing his mask clad eyes with a tissue as he watched the new, popular show, and my worries from the day discarded into a mental trashcan to be thought about later. "That's a very interesting picture, Bruce. Very interesting." I commented.

In silence, I un-muted the TV and we sat quietly for the next few minutes, other than Bruce's random comments, that is. He frequently made sobbing noises at the overly-emotional scenes, hiding his face in his hands when a character said something particularly deep. "Oh man, this show kills me every time." He let out, a grin building on his lips until I smacked him on the arm. "Oh, shut up, Batsy."

"Batsy? Seriously?" Shooting me an incredulous look as he jumped up from the couch and waltzed into the kitchen, returning with a water bottle in his hands.

"It's a great nickname."

"Um, no. It's offensive."

"Offensive? You're the one who chose to dress up as a bat in your spare time."

The banter went on for several minutes, Bruce surprising me with his quick remarks. For a supposedly stupid billionaire, he was extremely witty. I wondered what would happen if Gothom City and all of it's paparazzi was to see this side of Bruce that I'd been viewing recently. They would all have heart attacks.

"You know...you aren't as terrible as the magazines say you are." My comment was sarcastic, but completely honest. The magazines portrayed him to be a horrible playboy, but in reality, he was one of the most genuine men I'd met. If only he would show that more often, although I now understood why he didn't. It's all about appearance, and Bruce Wayne would be the last man that anyone would question.

"Uh..thanks? Who knows, I may be a terrible playboy on the inside and I'm just hiding it very well." He moved back to the couch and propped his feet next to mine on the table, the size difference in cracking me up. "I mean, I dress up as a bat. I'm not the most trust-worthy guy, right?"

"Well, you're no Superman but..."

Needless to say, I didn't end up falling asleep until 6am, the banter keeping me up. The next morning, I awoke with my head on Batman's shoulder and his arm looped around mine, a blanket resting on us that was no doubt discarded by Alfred. My mind continued to spin but I couldn't bring myself to move.

Today, I would be doing research on myself, but that could wait until later. I knew that after last night, after that quick, fun banter, we would have to dig deeper and talk. Finding out he was Batman was the beginning of something huge, something scary and amazing all at once. Something told me that he needed this - the humor laced argument, to prove to him that I wasn't going to run off screaming or tell anyone, that he still had me here with him.

And if he needed me to be silly with him at odd hours at the night, watch Hallmark shows while devouring ice cream...I suppose I owed it to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Before you truly discover someone else, you should have discovered yourself.

My discovery of myself began when I was 16 - the day after my birthday, actually. My life turned upside down as I ran to the window after I heard a gunshot, the telling sign. _I became an orphan at 16 years old._ I watched blood trickle down my dear father's face as he gripped onto mother's hand, lips pressed against her forehead for just one last goodbye, one last _I love you, dear._ His last words rang through the house, begging my older brother, Chad, to protect me. Something my brother had failed to do, sadly. In his defense, he was only a child himself, really. He had turned 19 just three months before. Still a teenager, still a kid, unable to take care of someone yet, especially as he was torn apart with his own grief. Still, my father begged him in his dying moments, my mother already gone.

They shot her right in the heart and she died within seconds. My father suffered a painful death, watching his wife die and his children enter a life of danger while he was lifeless on the ground.

Three days later, I was sent to my first foster home, my brother off to the Ivy League College that had already accepted him just a week before. _Our parents were so proud._ He was determined to make a new life and forget about the trauma that we had experienced. He forgot that there was once a _we_, that we were once a team, and he forged on ahead, landing a job at a prestigious company while his sister went from home to home, just wanting to be loved.

Perhaps that was why I related so much to Bruce, why we hit it off so quickly. Unknown to the billionaire/superhero, we had a very similar life, despite him being surrounded by fortune and fame. We had both watched our parents die right in front of us, we had both been thrown into that horrible life. I suppose we both became superheroes of sorts in our own way. He chose the most drastic route, I chose the most subtle.

All we wanted to do was help those that had experienced the same hurt and comfort them, but it seems as though our trying, our help, only hurt us and the ones closest to us even more.

I woke up with my head on the chest of a hurt man, trying his best to hide the truth. We were two very similar people with very dark pasts and terrifying futures, but something told me that together, we would make life work in the end, even if we died trying.

I nudged his shoulder with my own as I sat up, dark brown orbs suddenly looking into mine with fear in the depths until he realized where he was and who he was with. _Looks like Batman has a small case of PTSD. _Nothing I was unfamiliar with. "It's just me, Bruce." My voice came out as a murmur, trying not to frighten him any further. He sat up slowly and I cringed at the sound of his muscles cracking. His hand flew to his back, face in a grimace.

"Couches aren't the best for bad backs." He remarked as he stood up, seeming more comfortable as he glanced around the large room. "No, I wouldn't imagine that they would be."

He grabbed for our trash and empty bowls on the table but I stopped him for a moment, attempting to get a read on his emotions. "Bruce...about last night-" "I need to talk to you about that. You know you can't, you can't tell a soul. If someone found out, Sarah, we'd both be in danger." He said, taking off towards the kitchen with the things from the table as I followed.

"I won't tell anyone. I appreciate everything you've done for me and I owe this to you. If you need me to keep a secret...I'll do it." I wanted so badly to ask him for help...my parent's murderers had never been found and were still somewhere on this earth. Perhaps, with Batman's genius and my information, we could find them...I bit my tongue until later, though. Something told me that it needed to wait until later. I'd broach the topic soon, but now wasn't the time.

"Thank you." He uttered, hand wiping over his tired face. His neck was sporting more pink scars than it was on our breakfast "date" and I wondered how many new ones he got on a normal night. How many people plotted to kill him on a daily basis? Imagining my new friend at the hands of such insane people tore at me and made me sick to my stomach. He deserved so much but it seemed like the world kept throwing so much bad at him, so much heartache. How much more could the man possibly take before he cracked?

My mind went back to Harvey Dent, a man who had so much but according to so many, he had melted under the pressure so quickly. No one knew the truth of that night, but something inside me told me that there was something not right with the man. _Bruce wouldn't have killed anyone._ Would he eventually melt? How could he stand so many people hating him at one time?

"Don't think too hard, Sarah. We don't want your head to blow up." He remarked, a smirk easily overtaking his worn face. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine. I've been living this lifestyle for years now and I haven't died yet. My biggest concern now is keeping you and Alfred safe."

"What about Gothom?" After all, didn't he start this adventure because of the city?

"Gothom City is important, but not as important as the people closest to me." I could tell he was uncomfortable with the topic, so I let it drop as he murmured his last words. "I started this because of my parents death, I don't know if I can possibly bare seeing another person die like that, like Rachel and my parents...Gothom is a city. I won't let my family and friends suffer like that again."


	7. Chapter 7

**Quick Authors Note! Just wanted to let you all know that my laptop basically died, so until then I'm stuck with my huge computer in the living room. I'll try to continue updating twice a week. I've officially run out of pre-written chapters so they may be a bit shorter until I get my laptop running again, or buy a new one. The story is just now getting started - this is my first multi-chapter fiction piece but I'm rather proud of it so far! We're getting into the action and meat of it now. Don't forget to vote and comment! :) Also, it's almost to 100 views! Thanks everyone! Before I begin, this chapter was inspired by the songs Home and Ready to Lose by Ingrid Michaelson. Honestly, I've taken a lot of inspiration from her whole album Lights Out. Go listen to the songs while you read, I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!**

I had never paid much thought to Bruce Wayne, I had never stepped foot into Wayne Enterprises, I had never seen the manor up close until I was planted in it on accident. In all of my years living in Gothom, I had seen the man around the city, but I had never uttered a word to him. Stupidly, I had listened to the magazines who were so positive that they had him pegged. That they _knew _the infamous Bruce Wayne, prince of Gothom. As we delved deeper into our relationship, surrounded by confusing and muggy water, I realized just how much he kept hidden from the world. He had hidden his true colors, his real personality, for almost 35 years. _And I thought it was hard keeping my own small secrets._ I wondered just how much he practiced and rehearsed his fake life. Did he feel sick every time he had to act like a playboy? Did he feel horrible when he had to play the part of a mean, drunken billionaire?

Some people believe that after living in lies for so long, the lies become truth. For some reason, I couldn't seem to picture him as an arrogant man 24/7 when he was behind locked doors. There was something in him, a spark, that kept him living this life. There was a reason that he continued to tough it out, despite the injuries and stress of his job. He had told me once that anger fueled him in the beginning, but now, love seemed to win over. He no longer fought for just the city and the buildings in it that his parents spent so much time and effort to build - he was fighting for the people in it, the people that he had grown to love even when they hated him and spread nasty rumors.

His selflessness was a complete and utter shock, but it's what kept me here with him.

A loud bang interrupted my thoughts and I ran towards the staircase, my phone forgotten as it lay on my far-too expensive bed, made up by Alfred, with Facebook glaring from the screen. "_Bruce?" _Seeing the man stumble in at odd-hours of the night had grown to be a more normal tradition, but it still never failed to upset me. Bruce hobbled through the secret door leading to the Batcave, holding onto anything that would help him hold his weight.

"Ca-call Alfred, alright?" He stuttered, pain written on his worn face. I nodded as my face turned white as a sheet and ran back to the staircase, almost knocking over the sleepy butler. "I heard. Go back to bed, Ms. Dawson." This seemed to be our thing, these days. He would come down and save me from dealing with Bruce's wounds and insist that I go back to bed as if nothing happened, I would refuse in the end and run back to Bruce's side and do anything I could, typically just holding his hand and talking, reassuring or holding medical tools for Alfred.

My nightly tradition used to include binging on ice cream and watching corny reality TV.

We walked back down to the living room in silence and found Bruce hanging onto consciousness. His body seemed to be overtaken by trembles, I noted. I took the remaining steps to him and put a hand on his face, making him look at me. "Bruce, hang on, okay? If you die, I'll be out of a place to live." I threw him a wink, a sigh escaping from my mouth when I saw a smile on his face. "Wouldn't want that..." He replied. His voice was quiet but still strong. _He'll be fine, _I told myself. Alfred began his work on Bruce's various injuries, starting with his bloody right arm. He had somehow managed to get his armor off by himself, but I suspected that getting it off was all that he could manage. I was surprised he had gotten the buckles undone with his shaking hands.

_He's a tough man. He's done this for a long time before you came along._  
>But still, even seeing him start to strengthen, it was torture to see him in such a bad state.<p>

"Who did you get trampled by tonight, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked, stitching his arm quickly as he glanced to his watch. We'd been up here for over 25 minutes in mostly silence and Bruce had stopped his fidgeting, but was still barely hanging on. "Alfonso." He said, eyes slipping closed.

"Let's get him to the couch, yes?" Alfred made a grab for his hand that was in-cased in my own, but Bruce shook his head. "Mm. I can do it myself." He threw his scarred arm over me, the one that _wasn't _bloody and disgusting, thankfully, and used me as a crutch. "My personal cane." He joked. It had been a long-running joke between the two of us. He had broken his cane once, purely from anger, honestly, and had to use me to help him along to the house. How he managed to fight so hard at night was beyond my knowledge. When he was so passionate, running on adrenaline, I suppose the pain didn't matter any longer.

He crashed on the couch, one arm spread over the back and his injured one curled on his lap, stitched up already. His eyelids slipped down again and I smiled at the peace on his face once sleep overtook him. _The nightmares will start soon._ Just once, I prayed that they would stay away, that he would get sleep that he so desperately needed.

"Ms. Dawson?" Alfred spoke up. "Can you sit with Master Wayne and keep an eye on him while I go wash these items and get him more bandages, dear?"

"Of course. Go on, he'll be okay."

We were left alone, and I let a tear slide down my cheek. It was hard enough to see him stumble around with a cane in the day, but it was even worse to see him come home so broken and frail. To hear him cry and scream at night, begging for help that no one could offer. All I could do was slip in next to him and hold him as he thrashed around, and it seemed to calm him.

_I'm ready to lose everything but __**you.**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors Note: Thanks everyone for reading my little story. I'm really excited to write the future chapters and see how far this story can go. I hope you are all enjoying it! Don't forget to go read the past chapters as well. Chapter 1 is, honestly, my personal favorite. :) Song inspiration for today is Blood Brothers by Ingrid Michaelson. Listen while you read, if you wish. I think it captures a lot of Bruce's love for his city and the people in it, despite the vast differences in wealth, etc. Anywho, I better stop talking about random things and start writing! **

I had never met anyone as passionate as Bruce Wayne.

I buckled the last strap of my intricate black heels, running a hand through my hair as a ring caught on my hair. It tangled in my brownish blonde locks, hair wrapping around the diamond incased with silver. I felt so out of place and different - an out of body experience, literally, it seemed.

_Bruce Wayne's date, if only for the night. _

My mission for the night was to accompany the billionare-turned-superhero to the opera, not that bad of a mission in reality, considering I had enjoyed the opera from afar on TV for years and years. My mother's dream was to be taken to the opera for her and father's 20th year anniversary, which had been coming up before..._the murder. _She eagerly awaited the day, signifying something so important. They had made it, despite being told that they had no hope to survive past their newlywed stage. Two different people, one from the richest neighborhood in all of Gothom, not that far from the Manor itself, one from an orphanage. _Oh, how ironic life tends to be._

It'll be interesting to see if life repeats itself.

"Ms. Dawson, we're scheduled to leave in 10 minutes." Alfred's grey head peeked through the wooden doorway, a smile on his face. He wouldn't accompany us, as per usual. Bruce hated leaving him at home, a fact that he had confided in me over a cup of hot chocolate in front of a fireplace during a cold, dark night full of terrors and screams. He had woken me up, my worry pushing me out the room when I heard his shuddering breaths. "Thank you, Alfred." I smiled over at him and reached for my navy blue coat, the perfect match to my white peplum pencil skirted dress. Perfect picture, I thought. Even though I briefly protested, I did look quite nice, but would I fit in with him? I was most certaintly not a twiggy, scantily dressed model. Is classy good enough for Bruce Wayne, or would more skin be necessary in order to keep prying eyes away and gossiping mouths shut? If it was, _tough luck for them and Bruce Wayne._  
>Pushing my thoughts aside, I crossed over the threshold and met Bruce in the middle, shoving my arm into the crook of his elbow and facing the world with a brave expression but a fearful heart. Today was the first day of my fresh start, my clean slated life. I hoped I could handle it, but, glancing at the man by my side, I doubted I would have much issue as long as he stayed by my side.<p>

"Ready for the world, Sarah?" He inquired. I stepped into the car and stared into the night sky, fake-pondering over the question. "I think the proper question is, _is the world ready for us? _We are quite an interesting duo."

The car ride was spent in mostly silence, the dark blue sky was filled with it's stars, not a cloud in sight, and it seemed that it was too beautiful for words. Instead, the soft voice of an unknown female singer floated through the silver sports car, a nice ambiance filling the silence quite well as Bruce drove through the eager crowds, heading to the opera just like us, or maybe going home to happy kids after a long day of work in the city. So many different people made up Gothom City, but it seemed like they all knit together quite well, other than the rich snobs.

"Welcome to the show!"

A loud bang filled my ears and the car skidded to a stop as Bruce threw an arm over my body, one hand shielding his own eyes as an explosion lit up the sky right in front of us, bodies flying everywhere. The last thing I saw was a young boy, sobbing for his mama and papa as large men took off after every car in the road, guns thrown over their shoulders, disregarding the sobs and cries for mercy.

_Welcome to Gothom City, Sarah. It's been awhile._

I woke up in a dark basement yet again. _Villains really need to get more creative for their dwellings, _I thought sarcastically, standing up and testing my legs. Most certainly weak, but walking was do-able. I doubted I'd get far, considering I thought I saw some goons hanging around the narrow, dark corner right ahead, but if I could find something...

"_Ouch!"_ A deep voice whispered, familiar.

"Bruce? Are you okay?" I muttered back and collapsed back down to the ground, hiding my head in my arms as if I was sobbing or still sleeping. _Caught. _A man - Alfonso? - crossed the room with a gun, loaded I suspected, being used as a cane.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite prince of Gothom, Bruce Wayne and his lovely new accomplice." He cackled his words out and was obviously pleased with himself. It must've been nice to feel so in control, I wondered about his motives. Who would do this without a good one...Something broke him.

Before I could speak, Alfonso was flying in the air, knocking his back into the concrete wall of the smelly building and Bruce shoved the gun towards him with his foot, which had nailed the man in the gut. _Probably not a smart idea to kidnap Batman..._

"Sarah, _run."_ Bruce thundered, pulling something out of his pocket as he pushed me towards the staircase. "Um, no way, Mister. I've done this before, I ca-" "And who saved you, Sarah? Run, now!" He tossed me the large rifle and I just barely caught it in my hands, cringing when I noticed the dry blood caked in the wrinkles and staining my nails.

"I don't use guns. Now take it and keep yourself safe, use it if you need to. Just stay _safe,_ got it?"

Instead of turning the other way, I went back towards him with a determined expression, allowing myself a mental squeal of victory when I saw him roll his eyes just barely, knowing I won.

"Robin's coming." He spoke at last, quietly so the men heading towards us didn't hear. He elbowed a sneaking man from behind, grabbing a hold of one's neck as they punched him in the gut.

He kept up the fight for minutes later, until I saw a knife being thrown right towards his chest by Alfonso himself, who had seemed to wake up in the midst of the drama. It hurtled quickly and I let out a pained scream. "**_BRUCE!"_**I fought back angry tears as I shook my head, backing away as it hit him and...fell down to the ground. _What?_

"Sorry, boys. Kevlar. I don't leave the house without it." He somehow managed to keep his composure, much better than myself, a smirk growing on his dirty face. "Now you've made me even angrier. Not a very good idea."

He ran towards Alfonso and elbowed one of the dark-dressed goons along the way, taking ahold of another rifle and using it to slam the man against the concrete floor. I felt grimy hands grip my bare arms and I lifted my heels. _Thank God they didn't take these._ "It's not very nice to touch a lady like that." I grunted out and nailed him in the groin, smiling with much more confidence than I had just seconds before as he cried out in agony, falling to the ground.

I looked up and saw Bruce on the ground with Alfonso ontop of him with a knife over his neck.

"Can a knife cut through Kevlar, _Batman?"_ I gritted my teeth and felt my walls tumble down, walls I had built up for years. _Please, God...take me but don't let him die._

Just as the knife pushed up against his jugular, blood seeping out, I heard an unfamiliar voice ring through. "I can't say for sure, but I wouldn't want to test your theory out." The masked man held a gun out towards Alfonso and Bruce, and I closed my eyes in relief. I hadn't met the man personally yet, nor had I heard Bruce speak of him himself other than his reference just a few moments ago, but the man, still a boy in so many ways, was slowly rising to fame and all of Gothom's inhabitants knwe him well.

_Robin, Batman's new partner and Gothom's newest addition. _

The gunshot lit up the whole room as it sparked, temporarily blinding myself from the white light that it put out. Bruce was obviously aware of what it was and managed to push the confused Italian man off of his chest just in time to shield his brown orbs.

I was pushed out the door before I regained my eyesight, but I knew who was with.

"Batman to my rescue, yet again?" I inquired.

"Always. You seem to have a knack for getting yourself into trouble, someone's got to be there."

"I'm happy it's you, though." I blinked a few times, sighing in relief once I saw ambulances heading our way, sirens oddly comforting for once. "Me, too, Ms. Dawson."


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors Note: As I read back on the last chapter, I realized that I was rushing it a bit. I blame this on never writing action or angsty scenes, in all honesty. I'm typically a fluffy one-shot writer and I rush myself far too much. Y'all will have to forgive me as I am still learning every time I write something new, I'm going to try to focus a bit more on the action side of this story while still maintaining enough happiness and fluff to keep it from being 100% stressful, haha! In other news, my laptop is officially dead (insert sad face here) and I'm very bummed out about it. I plan on buying a new one as soon as my empty wallet allows, which stinks because I literally just bought my laptop less than a year ago. Ugh! Anyways, enough of ranting - on with the story we go!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the characters that you remember from the Batman saga. I only own Sarah, Alfonso and a few random little characters that hang around! :)**

"Bruce, I'm going back to work and that's _final._ I'm tired of just hanging around the manor all day long." I whined, already tired of Bruce's attempts to make me stay home and it was only 7AM. Despite having a slight headache for a week straight from hitting it on the floor during the whole Alfonso ordeal, I was coping well enough, although Bruce seemed convinced that I was just keeping my emotions cooped in and that I was a ticking time bomb. "Alfonso knows where you work, Sarah." He insisted. "If he got to you again, I won't be with you to help you. Robin probably won't be able to swoop in just in time like a week ago. What happens if he decides to act out again?"

"I do just what I did with the Joker - I deal with it." I knew he could see through my facade, but I wouldn't let the subject drop until I was on my way to work. The children needed me far more than I needed to be at home. After reading Bruce's findings on the Italian man, I wouldn't put it past him to hurt one of the kids, if not all, just to get on Batman's bad side. I couldn't help the children if I wasn't there...but if I _was_, I could bargain with him.

I wasn't about to let innocent children go through what I had went through.

Bruce took a seat on the corner of the bed as I finished pinning up my curled hair, and I noticed just how exhausted he appeared to be. I was used to seeing him worn out and tired, but this was the first time I was actually concerned for his health and physical state. He seemed to age by years in a matter of a week. This was really upsetting him, it seemed. "Bruce." I sat next to him and sighed when I saw the time. I had to leave in 10 minutes if I was going to be remotely on time for work.

His head shot up, bloodshot eyes staring back at me. His warm brown eyes seemed to be dull, but it still held a certain amount of fire in them. _He'd be okay, as long as he won this. _Something told me that he wouldn't be back to himself as long as he thought I was in danger. For a brief second, I re-thought my decision of going back to work so soon. He'd go off to work as well, pretending to be fine, but I knew him well enough and I knew that he would be a nervous wreck the whole day, probably snapping at people and fighting back the urge to call me every two seconds to check up.

"I've got to go." I placed a brief kiss without thinking on his cheek, regretting the decision for a moment but all insecure thoughts going away when I saw a smile, a _genuine _smile, creep on his face after. "Don't die." He replied easily, a war going on behind his carefully built walls.

"I'll try."

Work, as always, was a busy affair. The kids, especially Tommy, who had apparently been teased the whole week and a half that I had been gone. The other ladies, as wonderful workers as they were, did tend to take everyone's side...other than Tommy. In their eyes, he was a trouble maker and had no good qualities, but I could see a heart of gold in his little scarred body. _Just like Bruce, _I thought wryly.

"Tommy, have you been practicing your song for this week?" I asked my shadow excitedly. Uunsurprisingly, the little boy had chosen the guitar to be his instrument. According to him, his mother had played during a brief stint of sobriety. _I want to be just like her, _he had said. He remembered so many good things about their time together and I believe that he forced out the bad things. He had put himself under the impression that his mother was a true hero, and we all hesitated to break it to him and tell him the truth. To be only 6 years old, he was a real trooper.

"Yes, Ms. Dawson! I already know the first half!" He exclaimed. Truthfully, the little boy was a real prodigy. We had started him off very lightly with learning simple chords, but he had taken off and developed a real talent in the midst of many broken guitar strings and children's songs. "Well, that's-" "Sarah, you've got a visitor!" Emily, my co-worker, interrupted. "I'll be right back, Tommy!"

My heels had already been discarded under my small desk the minute I had stepped into work, so I carefully avoided legos and train-tracks on the blue carpeted floor as I jogged to the door, heart-racing at the possibilities. _Alfsonso wouldn't just knock on the door and ask to see me, _I hoped. _He'_s_ a criminal, surely he'd have more tact...right? _

"Woah, there." Arms steadied me the second I managed to trip myself on plastic yellow car and I let out a sigh of relief. Definitely not Alfonso, the deep voice betraying him. "Bruce Wayne, what are you doing here?" I whispered angrily. "I told you I could take care of myself! Why do you have to do this?" I kept my voice down despite Emily's retrieval the moment she saw me step into the door. She knew we needed time alone, apparently, and I was thankful.

"I was-"

"Don't you dare say that you were in the neighborhood - Wayne Enterprises is over 35 minutes away, unless you were doing _you know what _and it's a bit early in the day for that, isn't it?" I spat out.

"Sarah, don't make such a big deal about this, I just wanted to come visit you at work." His tone changed suddenly and I knew that someone had walked in - Tommy had come looking for me and stopped in his tracks the moment he saw a stranger, especially such a big one. Bruce leaned in closer as if he were kissing my temple and his voice turned to a whisper. "I just got a call from Robin. Alfonso is heading this way and he's coming quickly. We have to go, now."

"Give me five minutes." I nodded, surprised once again at how quickly he regained his calm composure. As I was rushing out and trying not to scare the little boy hiding in the corner, I overheard Bruce talking to him and asking him about his guitar, which was strapped around his thin shoulders.

"Emily," I started. "There's been a family emergency, I'm so sorry. I've got to go early today." I knew she'd understand, but I still felt horrible as I left her with the day's work. I felt even worse, though, lying to her. She'd be safer, left in the dark.

"Oh, Sarah! Of course, I'll be praying for everyone involved." We said our goodbyes and I sprinted back out to Bruce, grabbing my shoes and purse from my desk as I went along. "Tommy, I've got to go, okay? I'll see you tomorrow!" With a kiss blown towards the boy, I gripped Bruce's hand and let him lead me off to his car, footsteps rushed.

Our drive was eerily quiet, until the news playing on the radio caught up with us and Bruce turned it off as quickly as he could. _New Italian Gang forms in Gothom City - The supposed leader on the hunt for someone...but whom? _

For the first time, I felt my weariness catch up to me. I was the person that he was hunting after. The word seemed so fitting..._hunting. _He was after blood, of course. Nothing else would settle him, it seemed.

"Sarah, it'll be fine." He reached over to hold my hand as we hit a road-block, policemen signalling us to turn around and go another way. He rolled down the window of the Audi, giving me an annoyed glance, hiding his concern, I suspected.

"Sir, you'll have to turn around." The officer explained. "I live at Wayne Manor. This is the only way home."

"Mr. Wayne...you don't know? The officer drawled. "Wayne Manor has been set on fire - again."


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note: I kind of accidentally left y'all on a bit of a cliffhanger in the last chapter! I've been busy with work and babysitting and I haven't had a spare moment to continue everything! I'll make this note short! Don't forget to "vote" and comment on my chapters! Every vote and comment I receive makes me want to write chapters and get them posted even quicker! I hope y'all continue enjoying the story. Don't be afraid to give me a bit of constructive criticism and opinions! **

**Also, the point of view will change around halfway through the story. My FIRST attempt to write in Bruce's POV so I hope I do him justice and he isn't too OOC.**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Batman or the any of the characters from TDK trilogy! If you recognize something or someone, chances are it is ****_not _****mine! **

I had never been angrier in my life.

The minute I found peace in my life, the minute I found a sliver of happiness, it's ruined by a maniac. I had taken the safe route for years, choosing to turn the other cheek towards the murderers and crazies that seemed determined to invade my life, and frankly, I was tired of it.

Whether Bruce liked it or not, I was taking this one personal.

The billionaire gunned the car past the cop, his Batman facade slipping on his face like a comfortable pair of shoes. The black Lambo drove through the orange cones set up for safety, to keep people out - or _in_, in this case. Gothom's finest police officers swarmed the smoky manor, rifles in their arms and armor on their chests. _They didn't stand a chance._

"Sarah, get out of the car and run to the cave as fast as you can. You know the code - I'll be there in a few minutes." Reaching underneath his seat, he pulled out a grapple gun and something else, shoving the object in his slacks pocket with a smirk on his face. "You've got a plan, Wayne?"

"I always do."

I raced out of the car, pushing my legs as fast as I could and taking the safer route, through the garden. No one caught sight of me as I dodged past trees, running towards the hidden hideaway. Thank God he'd chosen to show me this route the day before.

He'd installed a new route with the help of the Commissioner and Robin, complete with a not-so-trustworthy looking staircase and an extremely well-hidden crevice, only capable of being opened by password. He'd rambled on about the materials he'd used, but I had honestly stopped paying attention after he told me the password. _All I needed to know was it was strong, thanks. _

I crawled through and entered the long password, crossing my fingers that I pressed the right digits and remembered correctly. I sighed in relief as the door slid open, giving me brief seconds to enter before it shut quietly as if it'd never been opened. Now, it was an easy route to the Cave - if no one decided to join me, that was. I walked across the dark room, trying to find the lights when I heard a loud bang and a sharp pain in my shoulder, blood seeping through my white t-shirt.

I turned quickly, my hand anxiously trailing the wall to find a lightswitch as my body shook frantically. _Adrenaline, it'd be real nice if you would kick in now. _I grasped onto something on the wall...the lever to turn the power on. I pushed it down, letting out a piercing scream as another bullet slammed into my thigh, the force of it thrusting my body against the concrete wall. "_B-Batman!" _I yelled, my voice giving way and cracking from the pain taking over my side.

A hand grabbed a hold of my neck, shoving me against the wall again and again before I felt wetness soak my hair. "_Please..." _I sobbed. "Don't-don't kill him. _Please._"

I let my eyes close, my legs growing weaker and breathing slowing into a shallow, raspy sounding attempt to stay awake, to stay alive. I made one last struggle, one last try to escape before my body gave way to the large hand over my neck, another one creeping to my face to cover my mouth and nose to prevent breathing. _They're taking it slow... as slow as possible._

The minute before I fell limp to the ground, I heard an unfamiliar scream and felt myself be scooped up by strong arms.

_"Bruce.."_

**Bruce's Point of View:**

I don't think I would've trusted myself at that moment...if I had of found a gun...I didn't think I'd be able to keep my one rule. It would've broken it the second I saw him pinning her with his filthy hands, her blood staining the Cave's wall.

If I hadn't of been interrupted by Alfred, I would've killed those men in seconds without a thought.

She had been taken by ambulance to the hospital while I got out of the armor, Alfonso already gone with most of his henchmen. All but two had escaped, and those men were being questioned. I had let my emotions get the best of me during the most important battle of my life and Alfonso had escaped.

This is why Batman shouldn't be allowed to love. _Not again. _Love is what had killed Rachel_..._but I couldn't have left her alone to die. The minute I saved her that first time, when she was hanging from the balcony with a somehow peaceful expression on her face...she became my first responsibility.

Brushing my thoughts aside, I walked out of the manor's door, half-eaten by the flames. Being Bruce Wayne had it's perks and I was able to bribe my way into getting inside the house. My facade had already slipped into place and I became the playboy that everyone assumed that I was, without a care in the world despite the fact that my home was almost destroyed again. Alfonso hadn't achieved his big goal of ruining the whole manor but he had gotten rather far. There was so much to grieve over but I couldn't let myself. Allowing myself to grieve only proved that I had grown too attached to things, to people. When I was grieving over Rachel, I locked myself in the manor for so long and people got killed because I was worthless for those long months. People were left defenseless without a hero. Grieving allowed weakness to overcome and I was tired of weakness.

The Lamborghini was filled with her scent and her random things thrown around - a cotton jacket hanging from the headrest of _her _seat on the passenger side. Several coffee cups from Starbucks, bone dry. Paper after paper, covered in lesson plans, lyrics and ideas for her job. The souvenir hat she had gotten from the Wal-Mart near the Narrows, the Batman symbol in the middle. She had given it to me as a joke, but wore it anytime she got the chance, just to see me laugh.

I had never known anyone who was so caught up in trying to make me laugh.

And she had succeeded. I had never smiled as much as I had in the past few months. The moment she stepped into my life as a battered, scared individual...she seemed to light up the manor and make it into a home again. Despite everything that she had went through, despite her outer scars and inner scars, she was so joyful. So different from anyone I had ever met, especially in Gothom. Even Rachel couldn't compare...not really. She didn't get herself a second thought and spent all of her time on other people, making them happy and trying to make them feel loved.

Anyone who was capable of loving so sacrificially, anyone who was capable of loving _me _for such a long time even though I put them through hell and back, they deserved a special place in Heaven.

As I walked through the hospital doors, I made the last minute decision to stop into the gift shop, a bouqet of flowers soon being placed in my hand with a cheesy, pre-written note that said, "I love you" on the back. I quickly found a pen in my slacks pocket, pants that I had worn to the last board meeting (in which I was very, _very_ bored.) and scribbled the word "love" out, writing something else underneath. She'd understand just why I removed it and she would know how I felt.

After all, the woman deserved some sort of thank you and acknowledgment. She deserved to know just how I felt, considering she had almost died for my sake twice.

I wasn't supposed to be in her room yet, apparently, but once the squealing nurse took the time to look at my face, she soon decided otherwise. _Yet another perk of being Bruce Wayne. _I waltzed through the doorway, greeted by a very weak, but still smiling, Sarah.

"Hi there, stranger." Her voice was raspy, unsurprising considering her neck was black and blue. It would take months for that to completely heal, not to mention the bruises scattered on her arms and probably everywhere else. Being slammed into a concerete wall wasn't a fun time and she was probably pumped full of medication just to be able to talk.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" I took a seat next to her, taking a glance at the various IV's and medication on the table. They definitely had her doped up. "Like I got beat up." She slurred. Her hand attempted to move closer to my arm, propped up by the hospital bed. She couldn't move it very far, so I threw the last bit of caution that I had in me in the wind and took her hand in mine, my mind going back to when it was Rachel in the hospital, surrounded by doctors and nurses trying to get her back to life.

"I'm sorr-"

"Don't you start with me, Bruce Wayne." Even though she was practically disabled and dead to the earth, she still had enough gumption to fight with me, I thought wryly. "If you start up that brooding garbage I swear, I'll smack you across the face the minute I get these stupid IV's out of my arm."

"I deserve it." I managed to laugh it out, but she knew the words were meaningful and before her glare could turn any colder, I pulled the flowers out from behind my back and laid them on her lap, pulling out the card, knowing she wouldn't be able to quite yet. I opened it with the flick of my wrist and smirked as she read it out loud. "_I like you." _She turned to me, all remains of her icy glare completely gone and replaced with the roll of her eyes. "Yeah, Wayne. I like you, too."

All of my doubt disappeared the moment I saw the knowing look in her eyes.

I only hoped that maybe, she'd return my feelings and one day, I'd be good enough for her and capable of giving her a good, normal life.

Sarah came home a week later, despite my protests. She was pretended to be okay and back to normal, but I saw how gingerly she walked out of that hospital room and how long it took her to catch a pained breath after making the short trip to the door, because she, of course, refused a wheelchair. She seemed eager to start up her life again, as normally as possible, and I had gotten a lead on Alfonso and his gang. In two days, we'd make our - hopefully - unsuspected ambush on them. Our ultimate goal was to knock their whole gang out of commission and get Alfonso behind bars, but something told me that it wouldn't be that easy. I had gotten Robin in on the action easily enough just by promising action (and justice, of course.) and Commissioner Gordon was on board the second he found out how Alfonso was threatening Sarah, his designated "daughter" apparently. I had taken on worse villains and seen the worst of the worst, yet this mission had my nerves torn.

If I failed, it would break me.

"Bruce, stop thinking so hard." Sarah teased from her position on the couch. Her legs were curled under her, clad in a pair of yoga pants and a blanket that probably cost more than her entire bedroom set. _Gotta keep up with Billionaire tradition. _"Your head is going to explode and I don't want to be blamed for the death of the famous Bruce Wayne."

"It's so good to know that you care about me, Sarah."

"No, Bruce. I just _like _you a little." I would've turned my head to look at her and continue the teasing if I wasn't so nervous about what seeing her giggling face would do to me. There was something about her that had managed to enrapture me, but I refused to let anything develop until Alfonso was out of the picture, and preferably Batman, too. She deserved a happy life with a husband who could spend nights with her and children who would be raised in a safe home. I couldn't offer her those things, not yet.

"And I completely return the feelings." I ended it with a wink and plopped the pile of paperwork that I had to finish up for work in the morning. Despite what I actually wanted, I still had to make appearances at Wayne Enterprises and do some amount of business, partly to seem normal and partly because I didn't want the business that my parents worked so hard on to bankrupt...again.

"And so returns Business-like Bruce Wayne, the best procrastinator in all of Gothom City!" Sarah joked. I wondered if she was really this happy to be home or if she was trying to keep her mind off of the details I had just shared to her about the planned mission. Knowing her, it was probably the latter. I knew she was thankful to be at the manor again but she was good at forcing herself to forget about the bad things in life, something I'd taken notice of rather quickly.

"Sarah," I started. "when was the last time that you took your pain medication?" She was uncomfortable, that much was obvious. She hated taking the medication and I understood exactly why. There was something about being so doped up, so tired all the time and in another world, that made her uneasy. She claimed that she just disliked it because it made her sleep so much, but after doing research on the Joker and what she went through while under his "care" I began to wonder if he kept her drugged so she wouldn't fight back.

"It's been awhile." She admitted. I hopped up from the couch and trotted to the kitchen, a smile overtaking my face when I heard her annoyed sigh from the living room. She kept her pills in the cabinet near the rest of my various medication for my back and knees, the not-so-fun parts of living a double life like mine. I returned with the three different pills, each prescribed by her concerned doctor. He wasn't sure that she should be returning home so quickly either, but arguing with Sarah was no easy task when she was so set in her ways.

"Take them." I used my "batman" voice as she dubbed it to add humor and she smiled despite herself.

"Remind me again why I like you?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors Note: Yay! Another chapter! I've kind of had a set rule that I won't update another chapter until I get a couple "votes" on a chapter or about 20'ish views (I don't aim high, haha.) just so y'all know. I want to make sure the story is actually being read. Don't forget, "votes" make my day and comments make my week! Keep on being active if you want more Bruce Wayne feels. (And let's be honest...who ****_doesn't?_****)**

**Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing. I am I who has nothing. No Batman, sadly, but feel free to put him under my Christmas tree in December! (But not the red-haired version, Emi. I know you are reading this.) Moving along, here are more good Bruce feels. Hopefully.**

Watching Bruce slip into the cave was never an easy task, despite his promises to be back home soon and in one piece. Alfred and I had different ways of coping while he was gone - he chose to get his supplies ready and in the cave, _just in case, _he says. He makes sure there's a phone down there, just in case we had to call for help. Bruce had always said that Alfred was being over-cautious, but he had never told him not to bring it. He knew the danger of his double-life all too well, as did I. But the thing that worried me the most was the fact that I wasn't nearly as concerned for my own life, but for his. I had kept myself from falling in love with anyone for 25 years because when you fall in love, it only hurts that much more when something happens, whether it be death or them leaving.

Falling in love with Batman was out of the question, but my heart didn't seem to follow rules well.

"Miss Dawson, sit while I make you supper. You can't just sit here and pace until Master Wayne comes home. He'll be fine, just like always." Alfred's somehow cheery voice called from the kitchen as his grey head peeked out from the opened window that divided the kitchen from the living area. The man was either the bravest person I had ever met, or he was excellent at putting up a front to hide his true feelings. "I can't eat...not now, Alfred." I had long given up on him ever calling me by my first name, but calling him Mr. Pennyworth had grown silly in the past few months. _He has his way of becoming a designated father,_ Bruce had told me once, during our late nights. _He sneaks into people's hearts before they even notice. _

Bruce also had the same power, but I didn't think he realized that it was more than just physical with so many people, more than just based on wealth and money. He had grown so used to people only hanging around him, hoping to get money or sex out of the deal. I wondered if he even realized just how loved he was, even if it were just by Alfred and I. His note in the bouquet of flowers made me wonder just how afraid Bruce Wayne was. Just mentioning love, a deeper affection, it seemed to terrify him.

It scared me, too.

I walked around the manor silently while Alfred pattered around in the kitchen, making a nice meal, no doubt, something for Bruce to come home to and be comforted by, like life was all normal and okay.

I managed to find the private library, one that belonged to Bruce personally, next to his large bedroom. I stepped in quietly, still feeling like I was intruding even though he had given me permission to go in and take a book anytime, after a discussion of literature that had left us realizing that we had similar taste. It was my intention to step in, find something to grab ahold of my attention and get it away from Batman and his missions, but I lingered when I walked over the threshold. _It smells like him,_ I realized.

True to Bruce's typical style, books were scattered on desks, paperwork that was most likely important used as bookmarks and all of the books were ruined with dog-ears in almost every page of the biographies and such, words highlighted when he found something of interest. Most of these books were probably used for his patrol, I guessed. So many biographies of people who had been seen as terrible individuals. He had told me once that he tried his best to get into their minds, to see _why_ they were doing what they were doing. Judging by the book covers, I knew that he had been studying on Alfonso for awhile, but not to this extent. Bookmark after bookmark, yellow highlights ruining almost every page.

"Miss Dawson, Master Wayne is home and I believe it would do him good to see you." I opened my cloudy eye when I heard Alfred's voice, a glance at the clock telling me that it was _way _past Bruce's typical time. He'd been out there for 9 hours, almost 10. The sun had already risen, ready to start a new day...if only I had that. How I longed for the ability to just stop time for a few days, to collect my bearings. "I'm coming."

I jogged down the stairs and followed Alfred down the stairs, passing the old man quickly. He didn't seem overly concerned or in a rush to get back to Bruce, he lagged on the stairs, quite honestly, much slower than normal, so I knew I shouldn't have been so worried or eager to get down there, but he could've been treating Bruce for hours, for all I knew. Bruce could've been bleeding out or poisoned or - "Sarah, stop worrying yourself." _I don't think a Gothomite accent ever sounded that good. _Bruce peered around the kitchen corner with an icepack resting on his head and a towel thrown over his broad shoulders, smirk firmly in place as it should be. Despite the fact that he was drenched in sweat and obviously tired, he looked fine..._too fine,_ I realized.

His mission failed.

If he had of found Alfonso like he had wanted, he would've come home with more than a few bruises. Just like he had told me, Alfonso is out for blood and he would've tried his best to destroy Batman the minute he saw him.

"Bruce, are you okay?" I felt his gaze linger on me, watching as I calmly crossed over to the tiled floor, shaking my head with a brief smile when I noticed the cabinet doors opened, random items scattered around the granite counters. _Even Bruce Wayne gets lost in here. _

"He wasn't even there, Sarah." I cringed mentally at the sound of his frustrated voice. It'll be another long day, I knew. He'd beat himself up over it for days, maybe even weeks, and keep himself up night after night until he found another lead. "_The great dark detective." _He spat out, his smile long gone. I wondered just how long it took him to build up the power to even smile in the first place. "That's what they call me, now. Apparently, I'm not that great."

If Bruce was any other man, any other person in general, I would've told him to stop sulking and get off of his high horse. Everyone needs a chance to get humble, right? But I saw how hard he worked every night just for justice and peace for people that he'd never met, for a girl he had just seen for the first time a few months ago. He didn't even know who I was, what I liked to do, what I hated and loved...but he had decided to fight for me. It made me sick to see him so torn all the time.

"Bruce, you've got to-"

"I missed him by _5 minutes._ If I had been more precise and hadn't lingered around, if I had've brought backup and surrounded the area like I _knew_ I should have, I would've had him. You would be _safe_ for once. It was 5 minutes, Sarah. I tried to go after him but they split up and I lost track of him. They started going to the manor and I literally lost my nerve because I thought I'd come home to two people **dead. **Two people that I couldn't even live without. I'm losing my mind with this case and I don't even know why. It's probably the cleanest case I've been involved with so far. No crazy clowns, no masks, not that much blood, considering what he could've done to you that day. And I'm losing it because I let myself fal-" His voice broke at that moment and he strode over to the sink, throwing the ice pack into it with enough force to create a loud _**thud**_when it landed.

"You let yourself what, Bruce?" By this time I had already felt my walls crumble and I stood before him completely unguarded and willing to play out whatever act he had in mind, just to make him _happy_ again, to let me feel something but sadness and grief again. "You let yourself be happy again? You let yourself see that you could actually have a happy life outside of your cowl? Why is that such a bad thing?" My voice turned into a whisper when he closed the space between us with long strides, so close that I could smell the cologne he had dabbed on before a day at Wayne Enterprise's and the odd smell from the rubber and Kevlar - an odd mix that was so perfectly _Bruce._ __

"My _love_ killed Rachel." Finally, he had opened up and said just what Alfred and I had been waiting for in all of the months that I'd been around. The reason behind his closed walls, the reason that he had hidden himself from the world for so many years and become recluse.

He was absolutely terrified of losing someone else, something that I understood all too well.

"Bruce, an evil man killed Rachel." My voice was soft, as if I was speaking to one of the kids at work after they'd gotten hurt or bullied. Bruce seemed no different than Tommy when he'd first came into foster care - so scared and alone, desperate for someone to love him despite his faults. "Rachel loved Harvey...if you hadn't of saved him, if you had've chosen her, what would she have done?"

"She would've killed herself in the long run."

I had never seen a grown man as strong and sure as Bruce Wayne completely ridden with so much guilt and sadness. Just how far did his guilt go? Did he blame himself for his parents death, too? He was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and I so badly wanted to take off the weight for him, but I couldn't, not until he let me in.

"Bruce, she loved Harvey Dent." I had met the woman all of 3 times, at various galas thrown for small organizations that I had been a part of. All of those times, she was with Harvey Dent and was obviously utterly in love with the blonde man, and for good reason, it seemed. Even when she spoke his name, you could see the reverence in her eyes, a twinkle in the blue orbs anytime he was mentioned or brought up. When Bruce was mentioned, she seemed to shut down as if she'd never met the man in her life. Bruce's love wasn't returned, although it seemed shocking to me. How could she have refused him so many times? So brutally?

"You deserve a woman who loves you back." I paused, "Cowl included." If I was overstepping my bounds, he made no mention of it. Only put two calloused hands that seemed to be the opposite of what a billionaire should have on my face. He didn't seem concerned with the tears that slipped down his hands from my blue eyes, nor did he make a mention of the ones coming from his own.

"Where could I find one like that?" He murmured.

"I believe you should look directly in front of you, Master Wayne." Alfred's teasing voice rang through the manor as he walked in, unsurprised by our closeness and display of affection. He'd been hoping for this, I knew. _So had I, Alfred._

"Is that so, Alfred?" Bruce inquired, fire blazing in his brown eyes. For the first time since I had met him, I saw a twinkle in them, unmistakable. "Close your eyes, old man." He said teasingly, glancing at the butler who still stood in the kitchen with eyes on us. Just as the kind butler turned his head, eyes covered by his wrinkled and worn hands, Bruce pressed his lips against mine, his thinned mouth meeting mine in slow motion, it seemed. He was slow and purposeful, watching for my reaction. He pulled away slowly, eyes on my lips, still.

"I think I've fallen in like with you, Sarah Dawson."


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors Note: Hey everyone! Just to let y'all know, I originally posted this on Wattpad and I've written 17 chapters so far, so it's still in progress. :) Please give me a comment and let me know what you guys are thinking so far. This chapter is kind of fluffy for the most part but it does - hopefully - have some action...I think. ;) Just so y'all know, there is a point of view switch and I'll label it when it happens. Also, y'all get to meet John Blake (AKA Robin.) which is the same one you'll know from The Dark Knight Rises. It may be odd to include him in this time frame, but this is fanfiction so hey, who cares.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing Batman or D.C related! I only own Sarah, Alfonso and random little small charcters that I place here and there. Butttt if someone wants to give me Bruce Wayne, go right ahead! ;) :P**

It was odd, how waking up to a screaming man didn't even faze me anymore.

Despite the manor's thick walls and vast rooms, it was easy to hear Bruce when he really got upset at night. I often wondered how he kept from rolling off the bed and hurting himself when he got to going. As usual, I heaved myself out of the comfortable bed and warm blankets, tossing a borrowed robe - probably Bruce's, going by the initials - and crossed the hallway and moseyed into his room. Alfred was the usual person to do this task, but ever since I had moved in and gotten to know Bruce more, I had taken over the job. Alfred needed his sleep, whether he liked it or not, and something told me that both men appreciated someone else to do the job every so often.

I followed my normal routine and went towards his bathroom first, grabbing a washcloth and turning on the marble faucet sleepily as the water soaked the towel. He always woke up in a sweat, shaking and chilled to the bone. I had learned quickly that it was better to be equipped with a warm towel to calm him and an extra blanket to get his freezing body to a good temperature. It was such an intimate job in so many ways, and as much as I hated the necessity, I knew that it was responsible for the majority of our steady growth, relationship-wise. He had learned that I wasn't going anywhere, something I knew he needed to feel desperately after all but one man had left him.

I tip-toed to his bedside and slid under the covers myself, putting a steady hand on his back. He was known for lashing out, purely by accident and driven by fear, and I knew to stay calm and keep myself at a distance, just in case. If he hurt me just one time, I had a feeling that it would be the end of this thing that we'd been dancing around. Luckily, I seemed to have caught him before the nightmare got too violent and he bolted upright quickly without throwing punches or kicking me. Still, even after seeing him in much worse condition, it broke my heart to see such a strong and determined man turned into such a scared person. He reminded me so much of the children at my work, so confused and head-strong, eager to do things by themselves and tough it out. He's just a child inside, still. Withdrawn, scared and timid.

His face was white as a sheet and soaked with sweat drops, beading between his brows, body shaking with tremors. I didn't talk, I never did. I simply gathered his broad shoulders into my arms and pulled him back down, he was too exhausted, _always _too exhausted, to put up a fight. Soon, his head rested on my chest and I laid the towel across his forehead, wiping the tears and sweat off of him while he closed his eyes again. He wouldn't go back to sleep for awhile, but at least he felt comfortable and safe enough to rest his eyes and trust me with his body for just a moment.

"Thank you." Shaken brown eyes met my own, paired with a small, quiet voice. He fought hard to keep the tremors at bay but he couldn't hide the terror from me. I remembered the first night I had tried to comfort him, he fought me and demanded that I leave, insisting that he was fine and it was just a nightmare, nothing out of the ordinary. He had fought back the tears and kept his walls firmly in place, but then the next night, he started cracking. By week three, his walls crumbled down and the tears came flowing like waterfall. He was eager to lay his head on my shoulder, just for a moment. He never said much during the times, I did most of the talking once he was calmed down. He said my voice calmed him while he tried to go back to sleep, so I talked. I sang. I told him stories and on one particularly long night, I brought a book and read out-loud to him, finishing a sixth chapter as the sun rose and his eyelids fell. We had finished the novel quickly and he told me that he hated it, but I _saw_ him tear up when a character died.

Bruce Wayne - so insistent on being unattached and not amused.

"You know I don't mind. You're my blanket, remember?" I joked, replaying another long night in my head. "My very, _very_ heavy blanket."

He hummed and turned his body over so he was facing me, an arm placed around my stomach and his head resting on my shoulder. I had once warned him about how far he was allowed to go. I was raised in a fairly conservative home and I didn't plan on changing my morals for a man, especially not one who was labeled as a "playboy" by society, but I did allow him to take comfort, so long as he was willing to be comforted. "Keeping you warm is the least I could do, right?" His words were slurred but obviously heartfelt, and I tried to keep from teasing him too much. He was still too caught up in whatever he dreamed about to properly banter and I was far too tired.

"I think you do plenty enough as it is, no worries, Batsy." I had dubbed him Batsy a few weeks ago, one nickname that I knew he prayed wouldn't stick, but it did. Even Alfred had once referred to the disgruntled billionaire as Batsy and I knew he pretended to be annoyed by it, as he scrunched his nose in disgust, but I had a feeling that e he enjoyed being treated like a normal guy and being teased by someone. _AKA, having a friend._

"I'm trying to make up for everything you've been through, but it's hard. I'll keep you safe..." He paused as a yawn overtook his worn face before continuing on, wiping a hand over his face as he grabbed a hold of the towel and tossed it somewhere across his room. "Or I'll die trying."

I tried to laugh and pretend that his speech didn't effect me, but I failed miserably. My laugh came out throaty and confused, and I couldn't fake a smile. For some reason, it seemed that I had changed his life just like he'd changed mine, and I effected him just as much as he did me.

He burrowed himself deeper into my neck, turning his head so his nose wasn't knifing me. After all he'd been through, he surprised me at how gentle he was in situations like this. He was quite possibly the most..._cuddly_ man I had ever been with before. It seemed shocking to think of Batman as a cuddler, but it didn't necessarily surprise me when I noticed it. He was a man robbed of parents at a young age, constantly begging for attention from people, desiring love from women, but being turned down or only desired for money. The women that tagged around and grabbed his arm were only interested in the label of being one of Bruce Wayne's dates for a night or getting a nice wad of cash to stuff in their wallets. Alfred was the only person he had ever been close to, other than Rachel. But even she betrayed him in the end, choosing a mad man over someone who was willing to give up everything just for _love._

As he fell back to sleep and I rambled about Abby, a sassy little girl at work, I let myself relax, just for a moment. I hadn't had much time to just lay down and rest since my hospital stay. Even though I was confined to a bed or couch for most of the past month, I had been restless and stressed. It was hard to truly find rest when you were constantly looking around, checking for ways that a mad man could find you or get in the Manor, under construction yet again due to fire. Luckily, we only had to stay out of a small area after that and the repairs were rather simple.

For the first time since I had been kidnapped, I slept peacefully in the arms of the man I'd come to love.

I arose from bed much slower that morning, woken by Alfred as he waltzed in the room with two silver platters on both wrinkled and worn hands, somehow keeping the glasses steady and food from spilling. Black coffee and some disgusting looking smoothie along with a plate of eggs and an omelette, not unlike the one we had shared that first day at the restaurant, for Bruce, and a small glasses of orange juice alongside of eggs and bacon for myself. It still seemed odd to me to have a butler, waiting on me as if I were royalty or a billionaire myself. I had argued with Alfred several times and demanded that he stop acting as if I was some royal guest, but he refused to stop with the special treatment.

"Good morning, Master Wayne, Miss Dawson." He nodded to our general direction, not surprised at all that I was in the room. It seemed to be typical, nowadays, and I made sure that he knew that our nightly meetings were nothing but decent and pure.

True to form, Bruce grumbled and threw the blankets back over his head after his father figure tossed them away, his black t-shirt still soaked with sweat from his rough night. "Bats are _still_ nocturnal, Alfred."

"That they are, Master Bruce. But business men are not, and you have a meeting at Wayne Enterprises in two hours. It would do you good to start your routine so you aren't late. _Again._" It seemed that Bruce had learned his lesson early on and knew not to argue with the older man. Alfred seemed to trot past the door with a proud air about him, smug as could be, as Bruce dropped to the ground to begin his day. _No wonder the man is so heavy,_ I thought wryly. He went through the push-ups quickly and seemed to bounce up just as easily as he'd dropped down, as if he were a much younger man. If he were any other person, I would've accused him of being overly prideful and conceited, a show-off, but I knew that it was something he did every morning, audience or not, and if I hadn't of been in the room still, he probably would've done more.

"If I don't do them early in the morning, I won't do them at all." He had told me once, after I had asked him to ditch the routine for one morning to help me with something. Apparently, even superhero vigilantes had problems with procrastination.

I observed him as he finished up his mornng chore, his t-shirt straining against his biceps. I wasn't necessarily the most superficial girl in the world and I had prided myself on the fact that I didn't really care much for looks as long as the guy had a good heart, but I definitely wouldn't complain about my current view. It was nice, knowing that I had someone that was willing _and_capable of protecting me. After 10 years of basically being on my own in Gothom City, it was nice to have someone to trust.

"Listen, Sarah. I've got a gala that I'm supposed to attend this week, Wednesday, I think." He paused for a moment, peeking over at me and wiping his face with a towel Alfred had left on the dresser. "I really don't want to leave you alone...not again. I'd like for you to come with me."

"As what? A friend? People will gossip."

"I was thinking more of as my date, unless you want to choose another option. We could always go as friends and just ignore everyone." He said, a smirk growing easily on his face. "Or do you prefer to kiss and run?" _Considering just thinking about that kiss makes my heart beat faster and makes me want to be back in your arms, definitely not. _

"No, no. A date sounds nice." I crept to his side slowly when he turned his back to me, chuckling quietly and collecting his things for an early morning shower. "But what will the paparazzi think of Bruce Wayne bringing a random poor girl to a gala?" I pressed my mouth to his neck shamelessly, feeling confident for a moment. He actually _wanted_ me to be his plus 1?

"They'll think it's a charity case, but we'll know the truth, right?" His blunt honesty shocked me for a second before he took my face in calloused hands and turned back my way, placing a kiss on my forehead before moving down to the tip of my nose. "Besides, you are most definitely a step up from the annoying models I used to lug around." With that, he pushed his lips against mine and marched into his bathroom, nightmares and work-outs long forgotten as I felt the kiss linger.

**Point of View Switch: Bruce's POV**

I absolutely hate my day-job.

It wasn't a necessity and I had no reason to continue on with it, other than the sheer fact that I felt like it was my responsibility to make sure the company that my family worked so hard to keep up stayed on firm ground and is run well by good people. I hated being the mean boss walking around with pink slips and firing people, always getting tossed the dirty work because no one else had the guts to tell someone they were out of luck - and a job. But it had it's perks.

Linda, for instance.

Linda had worked for Wayne Enterprises for over 25 years, an employee hired by my father, himself. She worked at the desk, refusing any kind of promotion or retirement. At 66 years old, she was starting to be slowed down by aches and pains, but she never failed to greet anyone and everyone with a smile, even the younger employees that seemed intent on making her life miserable and hating her guts just because she was paid better for "sitting in a seat and resting all day." She, like Alfred, had become more than just a friend and more like a grandparent or maternal figure. It was hard not to feel that way for the sweet old lady, and she seemed to get past my tough exterior fairly easily in my younger, more rebellious years.

She was the perfect person to ask for help and I planned on taking advantage.

"Ms. Thornston!" I yelled out, ignoring the angry glances from every other employee on the 3rd floor, annoyed that the old lady was getting my attention.

"Bruce, dear. Call me Linda or I'll smack you. I've told you a thousand times!" And she would. I'd learned that the hard way.

"I need your help with something..._someone, _actually. There's a big gala on Wednesday and I found a date. I need you to give a few different stores in town a call and see if they have anything nice. Get descriptions from them and pick whatever you think would be best and have them send it over to the Manor." Recently, due to her not being able to walk around quite as much anymore, she'd become more of my PA when it comes to ordering things from the internet and helping me pick out things for the women I had to keep around for my playboy images' sake. But this time, it had to be special, not just run-of-the-mill. "Make sure it's classy, nothing like you'd see those _others_ wear, okay?"

"And is this for a Miss Dawson, by any chance?" Her wrinkled hand lifted a newspaper, Sarah's face on the front cover as I led her into the black BMW just the other day at her workplace. _Busted._

"Maybe." I snagged the paper from her pink-painted nails and fled away to the meeting room, already late. "I'll see you later, Linda."

The minute I stepped into the boardroom, I knew something was terribly wrong.

John sat in the head chair, gun strapped to his side next to layers of protection. It was odd to see him out of his Robin gear after such a long time.

"Bruce, we have situation."


	13. Chapter 13

**Authors Note: First off, thank y'all so much for so many views. That's incredible. I'd love to recieve more comments and votes but hey, beggers can't be choosers! I know that this story has kind of been bumming along slowly and there hasn't been much action considering this is a Batman story, but it's coming. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! This chapter is in Bruce's point of view. Also, before I begin, I apologize if this isn't the best! It's a big challenge for me to write action and I'm still working on that to make it as good as possible as I learn, and we've had some family issues going on and I've not really been in the state of mind for writing. Updates should start coming quicker, I hope, as thing settle down. I'll try my best to update once a week again. :) Also someone sent me a message asking how many chapter this story will be and I honestly don't know. I'm planning the rest out this week and hopefully I'll have an idea of when this will end (and if I'll do a sequel, which is possible) and what happens next. I have a plot churning in my head for a Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne story so we shall see.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing Batman related, although I wish I owned Bruce Wayne... ;)**

Slipping on the cowl, I made my way out of the cave as the bats' calls echoed through the large, gloomy room. I hadn't take the the Tumbler out in awhile, choosing to go on foot for the sake of beng subtle, but I had grown impatient with waiting around for Alfonso to make his move. Tonight, it was my turn to act. My heart still threatened to pound out of my chest, even after being on the job for so many long years. Once I got into action, I'd be numb. Batman doesn't feel - he _can't _feel. The moment any of my own feelings are transported into Batman will be the moment I let down my guard and something dreadful happens.

Robin had gotten a lead on Alfonso and his gang, they were meeting in a run-down basement in the middle of the Narrows - the perfect place to plan because no one would think twice, seeing rugged men with guns and other various weapons. People like them were the norm in that part of town. Supposedly, they were planning an ambush, this time much larger than the fire at the Manor or the break-in at the Cave, and I had a feeling that I'd finally discovered just why they were after Sarah Dawson and willing to go up against Gothom's finest vigilantes just to bring her down.

The Dawson's were a larger than life family stuck in the suburbs, choosing to hide their wealth unless they were using it to help other people. They were the epitome of good people with good hearts, which caused me to want to look much deeper. If they were so loved by everyone, and for good reason, why would they have been murdered so suddenly in their very own driveway? Unless they were hiding something big, there weren't necessarily the prime candidate for a murder so gruesome. As it turned out, the Dawson's were quite involved with the Italian gang in Gothom City, but not in a bad way. On the side, they were also giving money and support to Gothom's officials in order to bring down the number of murders and cut down the violence caused by gangs in the city, just like my own parents did. It seemed as though they'd died an very surprising death, not unlike my own parents, until I finally found the dirt I had been looking for.

Sarah's father was a police officer, working in a small town, mostly. He had been on the job when they received a call that required as much backup as possible, so he was immeditely sent out to watch over the others and keep an eye out on the crowd that was steadily growing, fueled with curiosity. He had seen a lone member of the gang manage to sneak away, his tattooed arms and run-down face blending in well with the citizens of the Narrows. He went by unnoticed, until he made the mistake of pulling a gun on a mother and her teenage son, who was suspected to be his wife, butting into his business, so to speak. Sarah's father, Jacob Dawson, shot the man and he died later that night on a hospital bed belonging to Gothom General.

The man who died was named Felice Ventura, and the boy was named Alfonso.

Ever since then, Alfonso had a vendetta out for the whole Dawson family. They were later killed by accomplices of the Ventura's, paid by his very own mother who held a grudge of her own. Alfonso wouldn't stop until the whole Dawson family was destroyed and 6 feet under. This prompted me to do some research on Sarah's older brother, Brian, who was living in the Big Apple working for a large insurance company. It seemed that he had managed to find himself a stalker as well. Being Batman had it's perks, and I was able to find enough info to get by - he had put a restraining order on several men who he claimed were sending him threats.

Having info made my job much easier in a lot of ways. I knew the underlying motive and could use his grief to my advantage if I played my cards correctly and carefully. I had also found out that he was using his father's old stomping grounds as his meeting place, a very large - and obvious - mistake. It's easy to find, large on the map and a good target.

The built-in phone in the Tumbler shrilled, breaking me out of my thoughts. Sarah, of course. I was less than an hour away from the location, even using the Tumbler's speed, it was a good drive. She typically liked to check up quite regularly, until she knew she couldn't anymore. I expected for her anixety to dull down after a few months of seeing me leave and _come back home_, but if anything, it got even worse after she saw the bruises and scars and blood. She tried to roll with the punches as best as she could but I knew she was cracking. Anyone would, really.

(Any sane person, at least. And she's definitely the most sane of the bunch.)

"Sarah." I greeted. Batman's not much of a talker.

"Br-" She paused, letting out a frustrated sigh. Shaking her head and running her hands through coiled blonde hair, no doubt. "_Batman._ Are you close?"

"About an hour away, give or take."

"Promise me that you'll call me the second you get out of there?" Her voice was shaken - she'll be up all night, waiting for a call.

"Always." I promised before taking a sharp turn, Tumbler moving easily through the small alley. Shortcuts are Batman's greatest friend during missions like this. I'd much rather be in Alfonso's face earlier than too late. "I think I may have found a shorter route - I'll probably be there in 40 minutes, give or take. This must've been uncovered during the construction." I rasped. Now isn't the time to break out of character, as Robin put it. Although if anything, Bruce Wayne was the character that I pretended to be - not Batman.

"I'll let you get back to your business then, I suppose." She replied. "Be careful, vigilante." Her voice turned into a murmur before the phone clicked off, leaving me with a loud dial tone.

_Vigilante. _I'd never heard that word spoken with more reverence or romance mixed in.

I sped through the concreted roads as the rain poured down onto the Tumbler's roof and down onto the concreted roads, painted and marked with graffiti and the stains of it's travellers.

The hideaway was strategically placed, no one would notice without an untrained eye and no one would expect that it was something far worse than the typical joint in the Narrows. Gunshots rang from inside the grey building as the rain continued pounding down onto the ground from the gutters, blurring the shots out from the outsiders ears. Yells and drunken stupor could be heard from the inside, Alfonso and his men surely enjoying themselves on the night before their great attack that they'd worked so hard to perfect.

As I usually did, I left the Tumbler in a faraway parking complex, deserted and abandoned as the roof bent down as if it was made of paper. Robin had met me halfway, excited to double-team the gang members. They would be attacked at both sides of the room by men far more trained than themselves. Somehow, we had even recruited Catwoman, the most complex and utterly confusing woman I had ever had the (dis?)pleasure of meeting in my 30+ years. She had, as always, been excited for the opportunity to latch ahold of Bruce Wayne's cash offer and take down some snobby men while she was at it. No one disliked men like Alfonso more than the Cat in Black. (And Batman, at this point.)

Robin and Catwoman opted to go by the roof, happy to find a small glass window that they could both easily fit through, perfect for distraction while I sneaked in far more carefully to take down Alfonso. My only rule for the night was to be the one who take him down, whether my teammates liked it or not.

He's Sarah and I's business and no one else's. And if Sarah couldn't be here...I'll be sure to throw an extra punch for her, just like I had promised earlier that day when she had _attempted_ to give me a pep-talk.

"Go to your positions." I barked into the reciever, stalking towards the side-door that was chained and locked as I heard more yells and shots. "Be ready - they have weapons and they won't be afraid to use them to their advantage."

And with that, the party started.

The moment I heard the telling sound of glass shattering, yells being heard much cleaner through the now-opened skylights and Catwoman's sarcasm leaking through the cracks, I busted through the door, briefly cringing at the weight of the steel door pounding down, armor threatening to bust my shoulder if I wasn't more careful. _Don't get into a rush. _

"**_It's the Bat! Call the boss in! _****" **A goon screeched. His men were well protected, but even their armor couldn't withstand much - the moment he made the mistake of yelling, Catwoman had him pinned down to the ground with a sharp claw on either side of his neck, veins already threatening to pop from their place. "Call him in. It'll make our job a _whole lot easier_, mister." She practically purred before plunging a needle in his neck, promptly knocking the distressed man out before lifted herself up as if nothing had happened, turning back around to see the rest of the members charge into the room, alerted by the noise coming from the room next door. Judging by their frantic Italian as they rushed towards Robin and Catwoman, Alfonso was late to the party. I stayed in the dark corner of the room, half-hidden by a large bookshelf as I surveyed the location and they all but forgot about me as they were pounded by the others. _Perfect place for a quick fight. _

I waited patiently until I was needed - it would be useless to use my energy on such worthless goons that my team could take down with ease in a few minutes. Alfonso had his best men with him, as he always seemed to when he was out and about in the city. These are simply distractions. Robin and Cat hadn't even broken a sweat. _They're enjoying this, having punching bags. _

But, all fun must come to an end and by the time that all but 2 of the men were unconscious, their ring leader marched in clothed in fine linen and a heavy gun in his right hand, cigarette in the other with smoke puffing from his lips. "I see we have visitors." He sang. "But where oh where is the Big Black Bat? Perhaps he's still at home, kissing a certain Miss Dawson and pretending to be normal. Pretending to be _sane_ and trying to hide his insanity unlike the rest of us. Come to grips with reality, **Wayne.**"

Heavy footsteps became louder as he strode over to the shelf and I slid to the other side silently, listening as I heard the familar _snap_ of the trigger on Robin's specially-made gun. Not enough to kill. Plenty enough to knock someone out for quite while.

"After all...any man who pretends to be a caped hero while harboring a _murderer_ in his very own home must be lacking sanity."

I felt a heavy gun crash into my armored back, the force of it knocking my breath away. I spun on my heels, slamming my elbow into the attackers throat and throwing a punch at his gut, surveying his appearance. _Definitely one of Alfonso's leadmen based on the slightly heavier armor and more expensive guns than the first men here. Still not enough armor to protect them from us, though. Alfonso had spent most of the money on killing Sarah Dawson and not enough on the neccesities he had to have in order to do it. _

Another attacker striked me as I sprinted across the room to Alfonso's hiding place, promptly knocked out by a fist in his face and a kick to his legs while Robin and Catwoman took care of the others. _I have one job tonight. _

I heard him lurking in another room, drawers being shut as the yells from the basement got louder and Catwoman's sarcastic remarks got even more brazen. He continued cussing on without seeming to notice the slight _ping_ as I broke into the lock and the chains fell to the ground, falling on my boot first to prevent more noise than necessary. I slipped into the dark room, lit up by a dingy yellow lamp and the cigarette hanging from the man's lips, smoke pouring out from his mouth lazily while he rummaged through the messy drawers. I crept to the darkest corner, rushing myself more than I'd like as he turned around, seeming to found what he'd been looking for. _Cyanide pill._ Something told me he wasn't planning his own suicide - that pill isn't meant for him, it's meant for me.

Before he could escape out the door, I had him pinned to the ground, boot crushing his hand along with the suicide pill. "If you scream, I'll make sure that pill ends up in your mouth and _not_ mine."

"T-thought Batman doesn't kill people." He stammered.

"He doesn't, but I know for certain that his teammates out there wouldn't mind a bit-" I pressed my foot harder into his hand, flat-faced when I heard the bones _snap! _"to see to it that your little pill there ends up exactly where it should."

Before he could say another word, police sirens filled the room and the lights washed into the otherwise dark basement, Catwoman already scaling up to the broken window up ahead to make her escape. Police don't look too kindly on thieves, nor do they on vigilantes.

I shoved my boot down onto his leg one last time, making sure he wouldn't be able to run from the police. Not hard enough to cause permanent damage but plenty to make sure that he wouldn't be walking around anytime soon before I ran. The police had to discover this on their own - one sight of Batman and they blame him for causing trouble and framing innocent people. _Just like always._

"Until next time?" He rasped, hand clutching his leg, grabbing at his pocket. _He's got something up his sleeve. _I backed up and released the pressure from his leg when he grasped something, a smirk overtaking his face. _So much like the Joker..._

The last thing I remembered was the pain as the bullet hit a soft spot of the armor, so planned and so perfected as I fell backwards to the ground.


	14. Chapter 14

**Authors Note: Hey, y'all! I'm sort of nervous on how the last chapter ended. I'm definitely not the best at writing action scenes and etc which is the main reason why I started this - to improve myself. I hope you all enjoyed it, though, and that you all like this chapter as well. Thank you all so much for all of the views! Before we begin, I would like to say this - I am NOT a medical expert and I do NOT know how Bruce would react to a drug like I pictured, I do not know what Alfred and Gordon would've had to do. Gordon is not a doctor but in my head canon, I think he's probably been around things like this enough to know how to get IV's set up and etc. (Plus I think Alfred would learn quickly, too.) So don't take that part too seriously, haha. This chapter will be in Sarah's point of view.**

**Disclaimer: All I own is the plot and a few random characters, I simply enjoy borrowing vigilantes. **

The hardest part, I believe, of being in any kind of relationship with Bruce Wayne is playing this game.

The waiting game, something Alfred and I had grown so used to. Waiting for Bruce to get home, wondering for hours and hours if he would be okay or if he would even come home at all. Alfred expressed his stress through his work, getting Bruce's bedroom ready for a potential long bed rest, fixing a hefty dinner if the man could even eat at all. After good missions, he tended to eat his way through the cupboards and then pass out in bed. The precious old man kept tea and coffee on the table in front of the sofa, where I paced until I feared I'd wear holes into the floor. Alfred couldn't seem to stay put in one place long, either, as he bustled from room to room, cleaning everything in sight as the oven warmed the food. But finally, he took a seat, patting the space next to him. "Miss Dawson, sit with me, please." And because the man asked for so little, yet deserved so much... I felt compelled to sit, despite myself and my nerves.

"I told Master Wayne once that I would _never_ bury another Wayne," He stated. "and he promised me that it would never come to that, not again. So I choose to believe him. Regardless of how stressful this life may be, it is _ours_ and we must come to terms with how difficult it is. And we must trust in Bruce, believe that he'll come home, or I fear he'll break down. He rely's on us, Miss Dawson. I pray that we don't let him down like everyone else."

"I try, Alfred. But it's so hard to see him walk out that door and have to sit here and wonder if he's even coming home. The least he could do is just explain to me why I'm even staying. Alfred...I wouldn't just do this for a simple friend." My admittance came through tears and managed to jolt me. Knowing in my mind that I cared for Bruce far more than just as a friend was one thing, but saying it out loud..it seemed to carry such weight and I feared that I wouldn't be able to lift it on my shoulders alone for any longer.

Alfred took a single glance at my red face, cheeks already blotched with pink and tears and he sighed. "You two are utterly oblivious." But before I could beg for his explanation, we found ourselves running to the cave after hearing a feminine voice yelling for help through the slams of a door. And what we saw when we got there, to our destination, was the exact nightmare that I had been dreading.

Bruce was spread on the small cot in the cave, completely dead to the world with his cowl torn off.

"He was poisoned by the ring leader himself." The woman said, reminding me that we weren't alone. For some reason, I hadn't felt the need to be afraid of her..not yet. "You'll need professional help, without a doubt. Just tell whoever you end up calling that a pompous jerk who owns the rival company decided to try to kill Bruce Wayne. Those richies are cold-blooded, or so I hear." She fled from the room before we could even say another word.

"Call the Commissioner. _Now._" The last thing I had wanted to do in that moment was leave his side, but I ran anyways, hearing the concern in Alfred's voice, bolting to the phone as quickly as my feet could carry me, and dialed Gordon.

He picked up right away, obviously awoken from a deep slumber judging by his gruff voice. "Gordon, there's something wrong with Bruce." Few words were needed before the man let out a stressed sigh and called out to his wife and told her not to expect him until later tomorrow. "I'm on my way. Check his temperature, make sure he's warm enough. It was bitter outside tonight."

The Cave was notorious for being freezing cold, even in the hotter months, so I ran to the closest closet for blankets. Even if Bruce didn't need all of them, I knew I would probably end up cuddled in one at the end of the night.

On my way back to the Cave, I spotted the coat hooks near the door and I made a spur of the moment decision, not even sure if my mind was working properly as my fingers made their way to his most frequently used coat, typically worn on his casual days outside at the Manor, fixing up something or another or when he had to go out into town, hoping the paparazzi didn't spot him. His unique and expensive cologne still lingered on the leather as if he were wearing it just now. I'd been wrapped up in that jacket many times, when I forgot a coat or foolishly left the house in the winter without proper protection from the cold Gothom air. _What if he never gets to wear this again? Never gets to wrap me in it and laugh at me for being so stubborn?_

I vanquished the thoughts as quickly as they came, wrapping myself in the jacket and pretending, just for one second, that it was him doing it instead of me, and indulged in the scent. Just for tonight, I'd let myself be open and take down my walls. After all, everyone deserves to be able to be sad and upset and comforted at some point, and I knew Alfred would happily take the job, and I'd return the favor happily. _And maybe, it would feel like I had a family back._

The cold air hit me like a bag of bricks when the Cave door opened. I tried to deter my eyes away from the Billionaire on the cot, still unmoving and eerily still, but I couldn't help but _just glance_ and I choked out a sob, shaking my head and trying to get rid of the image. _This can't be happening._ It's a dream, it has to be.

"I-I called Gordon." I stammered. "He's on his way, said to keep hi-him warm. It was cold outside tonight and-"

"Miss Dawson, he will be okay. He's been through this before and I believe I've figured out what he has in his system. _If_ I'm right, he'll pull through, just like always. Just like he promised us."

"But there's still an _if,_ Alfred."

"In life, there are always if's. We must learn to accept that. We chose this life, we chose to stay with Bruce, and we must endure it." And as always, I wondered how Alfred stayed so peaceful and calm during so much trial. I wished I could have just a shred of his wisdom, but I suppose having all of him here, in this life, it would have to be enough.

When Gordon ran into the cave, all Hell seemed to break loose. By the time he had gotten there, Bruce had spiked a fever and he was immediately stripped down to just his thin pants he wore underneath the layers of armor and Kevlar. As much as I wanted, _needed_, to look away, the moment I saw his scars and the huge bruise developing on his back, I couldn't look anywhere else. It only proved what I already knew - Bruce Wayne is by far one of the most under appreciated men on this earth, mostly by himself.

I went back and forth through the Manor, getting various things for Gordon as Alfred stayed by his side, acting as a nurse. The jobs did me good and kept my mind off of Bruce's pale face, drenched with sweat. We kept at this for over 4 hours, the sun rising soon and lighting the rest of the Manor up cheerfully as if nothing was wrong. Finally, when the fever broke, I was able to sit for a few moments and simply be with him, hands folded together. Alfred kept cool rags on his face and chest, wiping the dirt and blood off, or at least as much as he could. He had a bullet wound far too close to his heart. Alfonso had aimed well. I knew Bruce would beat himself up over his mistake for weeks and weeks. Alfred applied various medications to the wound and covered it with gauze and wrapped part of his chest where he had two broken ribs. If..._when_ he wakes up, he'll be in a lot of pain for awhile. The selfish part of me was glad, knowing I would be able to spend more time with him and maybe gather up enough courage to tell him how I truly felt. According to Alfred, the amount of waiting we had done was utter nonsense and he was ready for us to just get together already.

As always, I found myself mostly agreeing with the butler.

Bruce's breathing finally started quickening as he livened up, not quite awake yet but most certainly more alert to things. Gordon had said that he imagined he could hear us. The drug that he was given is capable of putting someone in a coma of sorts and he thought that Bruce could hear us, sense us with him, but couldn't quite get his eyes opened yet. So, I talked. Alfred and Gordon continued bustling around, keeping IV fluid going while Bruce dreamt.

It had just turned 10AM when Bruce started trying to wake up, obviously going into a panic attack. He thrashed until Alfred and Gordon had to pin him down and hold him still as the man frantically tossed and turned his body. When his eyes finally opened, there were so filled with terror that I had to look away, trying to forget the picture in my mind. The men finally stepped back when his breathing slowed. I could hear his shaking breaths from across the room, still, and I could almost imagine hearing his alarmed heartbeat. I hadn't expected him to be so petrified.

"What...what _was_ that?" I asked finally, turning back around after I managed to compose myself. The second Bruce heard my voice, he turned his head around as quickly as he could, hand reaching as far as possible when it was restricted by the needle in his arm. "Sarah," He breathed. "Come here, please." His voice was raspy, as if he were still in his other persona.

I crept back to his makeshift bed, managing to control my urge to just _run _and let him hold me again and reassure myself that he's _alive and fine and breathing_. He patted the space next to him and I sat on the corner, careful not to touch any part of him just in case he was hurting or sore. "You're alive." I said, sighing when I saw him smile briefly. I grasped his hand again, my thumb running over the scarred and call loused skin as he closed his eyes again, this time in peace.

"Of course I am. I'm feeling dead at the moment but I'm alright, just like I'll always be." He didn't ask for an explanation on how he got here or what happened - I had a feeling that he knew the basics. He seemed to be in no rush to discuss what happened so I didn't push anything and continued on with what I was doing, stroking his palm while another hand crept up to his hair, damp from the sweat he'd worked up during his terror. Gordon excused himself soon after as Bruce dozed off again, face peaceful for the first time all night. Even when he was in the brief coma, he seemed stressed and unnatural.

"He'll be fine, just keep him resting for a couple weeks. We're hoping to catch Alfonso by ourselves now that he's alone." I overheard Gordon say. His voice died down as Alfred walked him to the door. I had offered to do that so Alfred could spend time with his ward, but he seemed to sense my desire to stay exactly where I was and insisted on doing the job himself. "_He needs you now, not me. Not now." _He had whispered in my ear while the younger man drifted into another land.

(_And I honestly need him even more.)_

The next couple of days went by in a flurry. Bruce spent more time sleeping than not, and when he was awake, you could see the struggle to stay calm and collected in his eyes. He hurt more than he would ever express and suffered through it in loneliness because of his stubborn, overly macho nature. If it wasn't for Alfred's patience with him, insisting that he takes his pain pills despite how tired and out of it they made him feel, I would've wanted to run away._ Of course, I would last about an hour before returning, but the billionaire didn't need to know that._

He was able to move back into his room in 3 days, we hadn't wanted to rush it in fear that moving up the staircase would make his healing process go backwards. I had watched nervously as he crept up the stairs slowly that day, eager to get to a real bed but dreading the trip there. I kept a hand on his back, which was healing surprisingly well, while Robin, who visited several times, offered him the most physical support. The moment Bruce got into his bed, he made the "shoo" hand sign and Robin laughed it off, nodding his head. "I know, I know." I had tried to leave until I felt his hand on my arm, preventing me from going anywhere. Even in his worst state, he was much stronger than me. "Not you. You stay." He demanded teasingly, an easy smirk on his face. He looked like the cat - _bat? - _that ate the canary - he knew he had me wrapped around his finger, at least during this time.

But I'd be lying if I said it wasn't worth it, being back in his arms for a few moments. I had work that had to be done, lyrics that needed to be looked over before I returned to work in the coming week. Plus, I wanted to clean parts of the Manor before Alfred awoke from his much needed nap (_we switched jobs nightly, having to check on Bruce every night until he was 100% better. It had worn the man down, whether he admitted it or not.) _because I knew when he was awake, he would insist on me leaving and letting the so-called butler do the work, even though he was far more of a family member and best friend than a butler.

I couldn't bring myself to feel guilty about it, either. Spending an afternoon in his arms as he slept didn't seem like a bad job to have. Every so often, he would cringe and his hold on me would tighten, and I would simply stroke his face and let him know that I'm here, I'm _always_ here, and he would calm down. Sometimes, his eyes would open for the briefest of seconds, looking me over every time as if he were making sure I was still there, still alive, still in one-piece, and go back to sleep.

He held me in his arms the same way as always. We faced each other, his head always somehow managing to find itself in the crook of my neck or at my collarbone, respectfully at a distance and making sure to keep himself from being pressed to tightly, but close enough to hide from his troubles and nightmares. I remembered one late night conversation, when he had told me that it'd been so long since he'd been held. He had held other women in his arms, he had tried to comfort Rachel Dawes, tried to love so many women and tried to heal his heart but no one would hold him back and offer him love or comfort. "_Until you, Sarah."_ He had whispered in the dark room, voice quiet and calm despite the fact that he'd only just woken from a terrible nightmare moments before.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, the darkness of the room finally taking over my senses, Bruce lifted his head back up and rested his chin on my head, his face lit by the fire roaring in the fireplace situated at the corner of the grand room. "I love you, Sarah."


	15. Chapter 15

**Authors Note: I don't like rushing people into relationships when I write so I hope I'm not doing that. But man, this is chapter 15. Sarah and Bruce - time to make some headway! Hopefully it doesn't seem like they are falling in love too fast. This chapter has a lot of conversation but I think it's good to get a better feel for Sarah's life outside of Batman and villains.**

**We also get to say hello to a beloved established character who I hope y'all recognize. I'm taking some liberties with his age and the fact that I've already mentioned a Robin, but hey, nothing too drastic. This is fan****_fiction_**** after all. Hope y'all enjoy! Don't forget to "vote" and review!**

**Disclaimer: I am I who has nothing. I simply borrow Bruce Wayne and his friends.**

It had been 3 days.

Bruce had told me that he loved me 3 days ago, and I had avoided him at all costs.

It was easy to spend time without even seeing each other, despite the fact that we lived in the same house. The Manor is enormous and it's easy to get lost in there, caught in your own world. Nights and mornings were trickier, though. Our rooms sat across from each other, so I had to wait until I either heard him shuffle into the bathroom for a shower or wake up earlier than him and hide in the other part of the house that he didn't go off to often. Nights were the worst, though. Every cell in my body wanted to go to him when he screamed and yelled and thrashed around in bed, drenched with sweat and regret. But I wouldn't, _couldn't_ face him. Not yet. Alfred was right when he said that Bruce deserved an answer. Bruce would wait for me to decide, wait however long was needed, but after dealing with that when Rachel was around...he deserved a solid answer and _soon. _And considering the gala that he wanted me to come to, the one that I swore to attend with him, as his date, was in 4 days, I had to make my decision sooner rather than later.

I stayed in my bed for the first few moments, listening to him doing his morning routine. It was easy to hear him in the morning, doing the push-ups and whatever else he does before a shower. Nerves tried to get the best of me but I pushed them away, lifting myself out of bed and padding into his room, knocking lightly before I entered. He had just gotten up from the floor, eyes bloodshot and sleepy - it had been a hard night for him and I let my foolishness get in the way of helping him when he actually needed me the most.

"Hi." I murmured, forcing a small smile.

"Good morning." He smiled back, a much better actor than myself. If I didn't know him, I would've sworn he was totally fine and happy, just the victim of a bad night's sleep. But I could see past the walls he had built up. _He's just as upset as I am, and it's because of me._

"Rough night?" I asked, plopping on the edge of his bed. The sheets had been ripped off and thrown into a pile on the floor, probably wet with perspiration, and the pillows were on the corner of the bed, used as either a punching bag or a place to try and hide. _Most likely both,_ I knew.

"I'm fine, Sarah." His answer was short and blunt, obviously not capable of hiding his feelings very much longer. "I just got home late last night and I didn't get much sleep."

I stood back up and walked over to him, putting a hand on his cheek, refusing to pull away when he tried to step back. "I could hear you screaming, Bruce."

"You didn't come in." He noted. It hurt me so much to hear the pain in his voice, as if I had betrayed him so badly. And I suppose I had. I promised him that I would always be there and when he needed me so badly, I refused to come to him because I was concerned about my own feelings and coming to grips with things. I _knew_ exactly how I felt for him, the love I had for him made my heart want to burst, but everyone that I loved always disappears somehow. I couldn't handle him leaving me, physically or emotionally. "You always come in...but you haven't since _then _and-"

"Please, don't." I pulled my hand away as if his skin had burned me, but I still stepped in closer without even thinking about it, desperate to maintain some sort of connection.

"No, let me finish. I've barely even seen you since I told you how I feel about you. I don't know if I scared you off or what but I'm _sorry_, Sarah, so sorry, if I did anything to hurt you. I get that I'm basically the worst guy to even think about getting into a relationship with and I feel so selfish for even implying that but that's what I want. I _want_ that with you so badly and I can't stand it because I know you deserve so much better than me. I never thought I could love someone after Rachel and then you come along and I swear, the love I feel for you doesn't even compare to how I felt for her." He finished his speech, taking the last step needed and enveloped me in his arms for a moment, just holding me until something seemed to click in his mind and he leaned down, pressing his mouth against mine until I actually responded to his kiss, saw what was happening. "I love you." He said again, against my lips. His voice was so sure and certain again, so positive that he truly felt that way. Alfred had told me he would've never said that if he had doubts and I believed him. I wondered how long he had been thinking about it, thinking about telling me and showing me.

He finally stepped back, hands still on my face. I felt the callouses and scars against my skin in a way that's so distinctly _Bruce_ and knew I never wanted to be held by anyone else again.

"If you want me to leave and never say another word about this again, I will. I'll go back to being your friend and I'll be okay with that. Just tell me."

"I love you, too...I just don't want to lose you like I lose everyone else." My voice seemed to come out as more of a cry instead of a solid admittance as a sob broke out of my throat. All of this was _too much._ I hadn't felt this much in my life. So much fear and stress and love and peace and I didn't know which way to turn.

"I'm not going anywhere." He insisted. "Not when I finally have something to live for and stay for."

"Then, I guess we'll make this work...somehow." He pressed another kiss to my lips and I managed to respond, head spinning. I knew he had to leave soon, get to work without being too late, not that he wasn't always. "And you have to make it to work somehow. You're already running late." I reminded him as he kissed the edge of my jaw, height difference making it complicated. He was probably just over 6 foot and I was only 5'2. Kissing was most certainly a difficulty.

"Right. I better get ready, then." His whole demeanor seemed to change in an instant. I don't think I had ever seen him so light or happy. He seemed so much younger in those moments, just like he did at night before the nightmares hit him. I wished I had some way of freezing it in this moment so I could let everything sink in. He walked over to a dresser, grabbing clothes seemingly at random before he went into the bathroom as quickly as possible. I ran a hand through my tangled locks and wondered what compelled me to do _that_ the very moment I woke up. _At least you know he isn't just using you for your looks,_ I thought wryly.

Before I left, I picked up the balled up sheets and grabbed the pillowcases off of the pillows at the last minute, knowing they needed to be washed. Alfred's still sleeping, surprisingly. He had accepted the offer of a late morning after Bruce had promised to be good and not set the Manor on fire _again_ although we all knew that story well. After staying up with Bruce on the nights that I took off, he was exhausted. I knew I probably had time to do a few morning chores for him before he awoke and hopefully, the bedding would be washed and at least in the dryer before he came running to relieve me of the duty.

I skipped down the stairs and tossed the laundry into the washing machine, finishing up in there and heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. Bruce wouldn't have time to enjoy it but I didn't think I'd ever seen Alfred eat anything that wasn't made by himself - surely he'd appreciate that, even if it's just for one morning out of many.

I had just finished up cooking the eggs and starting up the bacon when Bruce came down the stairs, tucking his deep purple shirt into his black slacks. I couldn't figure out which side of him I liked the best - the hero, vigilante in black and Kevlar, the sleek business man in suits and ties or just plain _Bruce,_ all smiles and random conversations and t-shirts with grease stains from his cars that he loved working on so much.

"Presentable?" He asked, waltzing into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, stealing a slice of toast on my plate as he passed by.

I cleared my throat and acted offended as he took a bite of the toast and gestured to his tie. "Well, I think this is supposed to be, ya know, _tied,_ but other than that.." I trailed off, tying the black tie while he ate. "Very presentable, I think."

"Good. I better get going or Lucius will have my head." He leaned down to peck my cheek, finishing a bite of the food. "Would it be too over-bearing or domestic if I told you that-"

"I love you, too." I laughed, returning his kiss quickly before swatting at his chest. "Now shoo." He left then, but not before taking my other slice of toast.

I had just finished putting the food on plates when Alfred moseyed in, easily falling into routine as he fixed coffee for the both of us. "Good morning, Miss Dawson." He greeted happily.

"Good morning, indeed." I agreed, smiling at him. He seemed to know exactly what I meant by that, too, judging by his smirk. "_Finally."_ He said, faking exasperation as he tried hiding his smile with his mug. I couldn't help but notice the tiny Batman symbol on the inside corner, causing me to laugh out loud.

"Agreed. Nice mug, by the way."

"It was on clearance."

As always, Alfred and I spent a comfortable span of time together, not bothered by the silence of the house. We always enjoyed the time, nice to know that Bruce was safe at his first workplace of the day, even though he was, without a doubt, bored at his mind. "_That's why they call them board meetings."_ He always joked. "_They're boring." _

When we had finished breakfast, I got ready for a short day at work. Bruce and I had agreed that it was best to continue life as I would've before so we didn't bring any attention to us. He had hired a friend (_and refused to tell me who that friend is, although I had my suspicions of the woman who had dropped him off, who I later found out was dubbed Catwoman.) _to keep an eye on me when I was at work or out doing things. It had creeped me out to an extent, honestly, knowing I was being watched, but I preferred to be watched by good guys rather than Alfonso and his creepy gang.

I slipped my jeans on and found a random jacket strewn over the headboard, eager to get into an old habit and go back to work. Seeing the kids always made my day a lot brighter.

As usual, Tommy was happily waiting for me at the door, ditching his puzzles on the ground when he noticed my car. I laughed as he ran to me and wrapped his arms around my legs, taking a seat on my boot clad feet. "Well, hello there!" I exclaimed. He very rarely displayed so much eagerness to see anyone and it pleased me to see him so exuberant. "Sarah! I thought you had left forever!" He shouted, quieting down when he saw me "shush" him quickly.

"I'd never leave forever, Tommy." The reassurance seemed to be all he needed and he ran back to his puzzles, accomponied by a new little girl I hadn't seen before. My co-worker Emily walked to the main-room with a baby on her hip, giggling and drooling as she recovered from a tickle fight. "Who's that little one?" I asked, pointing to the little brown-haired beauty next to Tommy. The baby, I was familiar with. Another drug baby, sadly enough.

"Her name is Susanna Thompson, very sweet and attached to Tommy but she only comes once every so often when her foster mom has to go out of town for work. Her foster dad works full-time and her mom stays at home for the most part. Her dad will be here at 6 to get her."

"Good family?" I asked. Lily, the baby, reached over for me and Emily handed her over, laughing when she promptly went to sucking on my fist. _Oh, the teething stage. _"One of the best." We saw a lot of bad families come through the system here and we were always leery of newcomers.

I spent the rest of the evening changing diapers and playing with the older children. Tommy stayed in my eyesight the whole day, I noticed, but Abigail was much more forward, as was one of the other new kids. "That's Dick Grayson." Emily introduced us briefly before giving me a run-down. "He just turned 6, I think. His parents were killed right in front of him. They were called the Flying Grayson's or something. They were a big Circus act. Apparently someone sabotaged them during an act and everyone but Dick died. Dick's in a temporary foster home until someone comes along and wants to adopt him. He says he doesn't want to leave his current home unless someone better comes to adopt him and the foster parents are okay with that, as of now." I sighed, understanding that completely. Murder is such a common thing in Gothom...no one even blinks an eye at that.

"How is he coping?"

"He's a sweet kid. Obviously upset about it but he hides his feelings well. Overall I think he's as happy as one could possibly be. He just needs a permanent place to call home, I think." Emily jumped up quickly, her reflexes working over-time, as usual. "Billy! Don't put that toy in your mouth!"

Left alone on the play-time area's patterned carpet, I watched Dick with fondness while he played ever-so-gently with baby Lily, handing his toy over the second she made grabs for it as if it didn't bother him in the slightest, giving everything up for her. _He's probably used to losing everything...everyone. _I hopped up and walked over to him, waving slowly when he glanced up.

"Hi, Miss Daw-Daw..."

"Dawson." I responded gently, noticing Bruce's black BMW pull up into the parking lot. The windows were always kept opened, so the kids could watch out and not feel as trapped in the room. Fresh air does them good, anyways. "But you can call me Sarah, if you wish."

He nodded, giving me another careful smile as he turned back to Lily. He's used to babies, obviously. He seemed to parent them naturally, without even thinking about it. "Did you have siblings?" I asked, hoping I wasn't prying too quickly.

"Yeah, they were older, though. Mama...she was gonna have another one, but then..." My heart immediately sank, understanding flooding my mind. "Oh, Dick. I'm so sorry, buddy. You would've made the best big brother in the world, I'm sure of it. And I'm sure she's looking down on you now, with your baby sister or brother in her arms, and they're smiling down at you and so proud of how sweet you are."

He paused for a moment, movements freezing. He looked back to Lily and then his big brown eyes looked into mine, a genuine smile overcoming his face this time. "You think so?"

"I know it."

"Listen to her, she knows what she's talking about." I knew just by the sound of footsteps who had walked behind me, but his voice still sent shivers down my spine. He stood next to my place on the carpet, observing Dick and I. "She seems smart." Dick agreed easily, comfortable with Bruce's presence already. Emily had said he was more comfortable around men, for some reason. It wasn't our job to pry, so I knew we'd probably never know the reason behind that.

Bruce nodded at him before offering me a hand, lifting me up from the ground with ease. "You are correct on that. Dick, is it?"

"Yes, sir." He answered quickly, standing up as well. He offered a hand to Bruce, all business-like and professional and I had to muffle my laughter. Bruce, however, couldn't stop his chuckle as he took his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Bruce."

"I know. Bruce Wayne! My mommy and daddy liked you."

"Is that so? What were their names?" Dick seemed to ponder for a minute, stopping himself before he said "Mom and dad" instead of actual names like he had done with me. "John and Mary!" He finally decided. Bruce turned to me with an odd look. "Grayson is their last name?" Dick seemed confused for a moment, so I nodded at Bruce as an answer. Dick most likely didn't even know his last name, not surprising considering he'd been in so many different families with different names. It was surprising that he even remembered his parents names, although I knew he probably heard stories about them a lot and saw names on paperwork.

"Yeah...I liked them, too. We were friends, actually." Bruce sighed, running a hand over his mouth. _What is he thinking? And how did he know them? _"Will he be here more...?"

"He's here 5 days a week, according to Emily." I said.

"Okay, good." Bruce nodded before turning back around to me, that odd expression still on his face. "Well, we better get going. Alfred has already called me a few times asking when we'd be home for dinner." Before we left, we said our goodbyes to Dick and I clocked out, letting the next worker take over the later shift when I left the building_, _the same question still on my mind.

_What did Bruce have to do with the Grayson's?_


	16. Chapter 16

**Authors Note: Hey everyone! I hope y'all enjoyed the last chapter! I actually had over half of the next chapter written and then got an idea after taking a walk outside and getting into my imagination a bit and thinking about where I want this story to go. And thus this new chapter was born, haha! Once again, I hope you guys enjoy. Forgive me for spelling mistakes - I dropped a can of Pepsi on my keyboard and it's not wanting to behave anymore! I'll try to re-read twice and make sure it's all perfect, but I don't have a Beta so y'all shall have to deal! Don't forget to 'vote' and comment! Much love! I'm suffering from writers block and I'm doubting that this one will be my best, so just be prepared. **

**PS: This is in Bruce's point of view UNTIL I make a break and they are at the gala, then it switches to Sarah. (Also, I'm unsure of the date when Rachel would've died, so I'm making one up. Don't quote me.)**

Coming back here was probably one of the worst decisions of my life.

I had fled the manor early in the morning, before Alfred or Sarah had woken. The gala was later in the evening and I knew I didn't have time to linger around anymore than necessary. I could say my goodbyes to the place, pick up a few of my belongings that were still there and finally get some closure, or so I hope. I stepped over the threshold and entered into the cold flat. All of her things still sat there as if she was still living there, like she had just left town for a few days and she'd be back soon. None of her friends had shown any desire to go back inside. Salt in a wound, they had said. I hadn't come back into the building, either, since she'd passed away. I didn't know what compelled me to come back - maybe just nostalgia, after finding burnt remains of a letter from over a year gone by in the fireplace. Maybe part of my mind was still hoping that she would just come out of her bedroom and just _come back already, _because I missed her too much. I realized months ago that I didn't want anything romantic with Rachel. I never _needed_ that. What I needed and wanted was somewhere in the manor, probably pacing the floors because I hadn't answered her calls, couldn't answer, really. I knew deep down that I would never be with Rachel after she refused the fact that Batman and I are the same person, and I knew the moment that Sarah told me that she fell in love with _both_ of us, both of my personalities, that I could never settle for anyone that just loved the billionaire side.

Because I realized that if I'm truly just one of those people, it would be Batman, the vigilante hiding behind a mask, not Bruce Wayne, the playboy hiding behind his money.

The whole apartment flat was gloomy - curtains were drawn and the dust piled up on the furniture. It seemed to mourn it's loss just like all of us. Rachel always kept the place filthy, surprisingly. Clothes were always scattered on the floor, cups and bowls on the coffee table and in the dish drain, papers on the sofa from where she had left her work for fun. It seemed so barren and spooky, too clean to be Rachel's place. _Well, my place now, I guess. Considering I pay the bills._  
>The night that she..she died, I had given her my phone. Just an attempt to pretend that everything would be fine, as if she would be able to call the Manor from it and tell everyone that she was fine. The policemen had found it with the Joker. It was a risky move - too much. I had made a mistake when I gave it to her, I knew that the moment I handed it to her, but I couldn't <em>not<em> make an attempt to comfort her. "_I'll call you when I'm out of this mess." _She had promised me. But of course, the promise was broken. Lucius, Alfred and Gordon had all preached on me nonstop for it, lecturing me as soon as they felt I was mentally prepared - _not that I ever really got prepared, honestly. Just better at hiding it._ And I hadn't forgotten how dumb of a mistake it was. But I knew I'd do it again, for her and for Sarah. I had told the police to leave it at her flat. It was my plan to get by there much, much earlier than I had, but of course, life had it's ways and I never got a moment. But Sarah was worth the distraction. They had left it on the table and there is sat. The battery would be completely sucked dry, but I brought a charger. It would be charged enough to check by the time I was halfway to the Manor. I secretly hoped that my friend would've at least tried to make some kind of note or message _before_...

I marched to the table, running a hand over my face. _I don't think I've ever felt this mentally exhausted, being here again. _With the phone grasped in one hand, I ran out the door, locking it and forgetting about everything just for a moment as the rain poured down onto my face, wiping away all of those memories. I plugged the phone in, eager to get back home with Sarah before the party began. As if on cue, my current phone rang, Sarah checking up on me. Probably ruining my floors with her pacing and getting some counseling from a very patient butler.

"I need to give you lessons on answering your phone, Batsy." _Again with the nickname,_ I thought wryly. For some reason, it didn't bug me coming from her. "I'm on my way home. Sorry, I just had to stop at an old friends house before the gala tonight." I refrained from telling her just who's house I was at. I didn't want to upset her for no reason. She was constantly living in the shadow of a dead D.A, Gothom's favorite spit-fire attorney and my old best friend/_crush_ there for awhile. I knew everyone expected her to be another Rachel, _better_ than Rachel, but she was nothing like her. (_Something I'm glad for, honestly.)_ Sarah had the gentlest personality I thought I had ever been around. And Rachel, as good as a friend as she was for those years before Batman and before Harvey Dent, she would've never laid with me in a bed to soothe me because of a nightmare or accept my life's work so easily as Sarah. The thing that came easiest to Sarah was simply loving me, and that was the very thing that Rachel had to force.

"I was worried about you."

"I know you were. I'm sorry - again." I paused for a moment, hearing the phone in the cup-holder ring, alerting me that it had turned back on for the first time in years. "Did you get my present?" I inquired, putting it on speakerphone so I could sift through the old phone at red-lights. _Rush hour traffic in Gothom City, gotta love this town. _

"I did. It's.._it's gorgeous._ And expensive, I'm sure. I don't know if I feel right taking it, Bruce. It's so much, _too_ much."

"You'll look stunning in it. Worth every penny." I smiled, managing the first real one all day. The phone lit up, finally, struggling to work properly. I hit another red-light and saw several voice-mails but one caught my eye.

_Rachel left a voice-mail at 3:34PM, 9/22/08._

"Honey...I'm going to let you go. I'm almost home. Love you." I cut her off from her sentence before she could finish it, speeding off after the red-light and ignoring the honking horns, angry at me for going too fast. "I love you, too, Bruce." She replied, concern laced in her voice, but she hung up nonetheless.

I played the voice mail hesitantly, not sure if I was even prepared to hear it. I hadn't checked that phone all day. She had left it just hours before she had died and I didn't even _see it..._

"_Bruce, I tried to call a few times but you aren't picking up. I'm sure you're busy with everything you have going on. I know I should tell you this in person, I really do, but I don't think I have the guts to do it. You always told me that I was so tough, so strong, but I guess I'm not. *chuckle* Well, I guess I just need to come out with it..._

_Harvey proposed last night and I accepted. Harvey and I are getting married, Bruce. I love you, I hope you know that, but I've realized that you've changed so much and I don't know if that's a good thing. Part of me wants you to turn into that teenaged boy I got along so well with, but I can't ask you to change yourself for me because __**this**__, Batman, it's who you are now. We don't have a future together anymore, and I'm sorry for that, but Harvey has made me realize something...it's made me see what love is really like and I'm so in love with him. I can't wait to get married to him. I hope you can find it in your heart to give us your blessing. _

_Please remember, Bruce, that love is out there for you. Don't give up on other people just because I let you down. I love you, best friend. Even though you're a klutz and fall into wells and get us into trouble. Call me back, okay?" _

Of course, she never got a call back.

By the time the voice-mail had ended, I had pulled into the driveway. The car was already shut off and I sat inside for a moment, looking to all the world like a crazy person, probably. I had barely remembered to shut the gate and lock it to prevent paparazzi from swarming to me. I just sat there, emotionless. It seemed like my mind had completely shut down. _Alfred was telling the truth about the letter. _She must've left the letter after I hadn't answered the phone.

A knock at the window startled me back into reality - Sarah smiled through the rain, wiping the foggy window as I unlocked the car door and she jumped in, turning the heat on, shivering from the rain. "It's cold out there." She said breathlessly, pointing her thumb to outside. Before I knew it, she had her arm looped through mine and her head on my shoulder, ready as always to offer comfort. "Tell me what's wrong?" It came out as more of a question, than anything. She never demanded an explanation, just asked and then waited for me to be ready. _AKA, she's not an attorney, Bruce. _

I handed her the phone and turned the voice-mail on, letting her hold it to her ear as she listened, her thumb jammed in her mouth as she bit the nail. _Nervous, obviously. I would be, too, if an ex had her so upset._ _If I was in her position. _She put the phone down softly, plugging it back into the charger and grabbing my hand off of my lap and laid it down on the middle of the console, nodding towards the back. "Cuddling with you would be a lot easier in the back seat or inside." I laughed for the first time all day and started the car back up, driving it to the garage. "Inside it is. We don't want Alfred to think bad of us." I tossed her a wink and frowned when she stared at me for a moment, shaking her blonde curls.

"You don't have to pretend for me, Bruce. I know you're upset and stressed and sad. Don't hide that from me, you can be honest with me. I can't help you if you fake a smile through this." I couldn't reply because I knew she was right.

We walked inside and I noticed her outfit for the first time. She wore her typical floral pajama pants, soaked with rain and the threads starting to shed off from so much use and I recognized the grey MIT shirt as one of my own, long enough to be a modest enough dress as it dwarfed her small frame. She had apparently opted to run out in the storm barefoot, which didn't surprise me in the least. For such a prepared and smart girl, the small things seemed to slip by her more often than not. "Save your admiration for the gala!" She called as she skipped up the stairs, hand still grasping onto mine. I took two steps at a time, happy to be back home. I still had a few hours to get ready for the gala and wanted to rest before then so I could at least pretend to be happy and care-free when we got there. At this point, I doubted I could fake it. I shrugged off my jacket and threw my dress shoes somewhere in a corner, allowing myself to be messy for once, and collapsed in bed in my slacks as I pulled my button-up off and left the t-shirt underneath on, tugging her down with me."I need to change." She reminded me, a hand gesturing to her wet clothes.

"Come back when you're done, then." My voice came out more as a beg than I was hoping, the floodgates threatening to burst the minute I laid down to rest. Everything seemed to hit me at once. "Please. I need you." And before I had a chance to even stop myself, my admittance came out as a pitiful sob, something that _never_ should've come out of Bruce Wayne's mouth, let alone Batman's. I felt too weak and upset to even stop it, though, and Sarah had her ways of making me less independent and more thankful for the ability to let someone carry my loads for a moment.

"I'll be back in a minute, I promise." She leaned over me, pressing her nose against mine in an Eskimo kiss before dropping it down to my mouth. It didn't last long, it never seemed to with Sarah, which didn't surprise me or upset me. She came from a conservative family and her morals and purity was part of what made her so amazing and perfect in the midst of the rest of Gothomites. If she wanted to wait until marriage, I would gladly do so. _Now, let's just get rid of Alfonso and his little gang and I'll be happy to give her a ring._

She glided into the hallway, slipping her door shut as she changed and I was left alone to my thoughts. It didn't surprise me that Harvey and Rachel decided to get married. I could see the love in their eyes so clearly, I just wasn't willing to give up the idea of marriage and a family with Rachel. I wasn't ready or mature enough to handle rejection and I suppose in some ways, I'm still not ready.

I had so much on my mind. Rachel, Harvey, the Joker, Alfonso, the gala and the lovely woman in the room next to me. I had been fooling with the idea of giving Sarah my mother's old ring the moment Alfonso was dealt with, and after finally getting to hear Rachel's rejection and getting more closure...as much as that voice-mail hurt, I felt more willing to give her up.

She didn't love me and I wondered if she ever really did love me as more than a friend.

And I couldn't really bring myself to mourn that loss, not when I had been given another chance. A chance that I was willing to die for, humming to herself in her room as she found another pair of suitable pajamas and probably wondered how she was going to deal with her vigilante boyfriend this time. (_Who am I kidding, after this much time she's probably already prepared.) _

It had been years since Rachel had died, and I finally felt myself healing.

"Was I quick enough, vigilante?" She teased as she marched back in, yoga pants and a black t-shirt covering her frame. She had opted to wear Batman socks, unsurprisingly. Her and Alfred had apparently found them at a little Ma & Pop shop out in a smaller part of the city. "_I bought every pair and I have no regret." _She had boasted when she got back home, arms filled with bags that were, sure enough, filled with Batman socks and other items.

"I guess so." My voice was back to it's regular gruff self, the one that made every interviewer nervous and every tabloid writer insist that I was constantly a jerk. Of course, they had already feasted on Sarah and I's relationship and made bets on how long we would last, how long it would take the terrible and mighty Bruce Wayne to kill the poor girls spirit. Only 5 people had given us the benefit of the doubt and said that we would last for awhile.

We fell asleep without much banter, which wasn't a normal occurrence. She kept her head on my shoulder, finally passed out as she was placing a kiss there. And for the first time in awhile, I slept without nightmares.

We walked into the art gallery, the perfect location for the large gala full of Gothom's finest along with people who had travelled long and far to be there. Bruce was set to make the first speech, nothing out of ordinary for him, I knew, but I was stiff as a board, knowing I was expected to stand next to him as he talked, along with the other dates of the rest of the speakers. _As if I'm a prize to show off,_ I scoffed internally. _Won't they be sad when they realize I'm not a model or a Russian ballerina, just a Gothomite fleeing from the mob. _Bruce seemed to strut next to me, his false persona taking over the very second we stepped through the glass doors. The only thing I'd enjoy would be the art hanging on the walls, but I knew I wasn't supposed to go off by myself and look. _I'm Bruce Wayne's arm candy tonight and that's all I get to be, until we get home._ I knew how much Bruce hated it just by his tone when he told me what they'd expect of me. He wouldn't force me to act like a bimbo by any means, but I didn't want to embarrass him or cause him any problems, so I'd act however I was expected to by society, at least when I'm here.

The moment we stepped in, we were ambushed by socialites and richies, flooding to us with wine glasses in hand, sipping on the substance as they grew even more drunk. Waiters immediately handed us drinks and offered food, and I put a hand up to refuse the wine before I even thought about it. I don't drink, but everyone else here does, along with the rest of Bruce Wayne's past dates. I felt stares burn a hole in my back the minute I said no.

"Wow, Bruce. One of your dates, refusing alcohol?" An older lady seemed to scoff in disgust when she said his name and talked about me. "Next we'll see _you _saying no to booze!" The crowd laughed at the thought of the billionaire not drinking to his hearts content before they noticed Bruce shaking his head, obviously mad already just by being in their presence.

"Actually, Mrs. Harlow, I won't be drinking tonight, either. We have plans tomorrow morning and I'd rather not be suffering from a hangover." His voice was still smooth, not showing his true emotions to them and acting like he was upset at the thought of not drinking. Of course, he never really drank at parties like this. How he managed to fake it so well was beyond me, though.

"Hmm, and here I thought you were just having sympathy pains." The lady hummed, chin jutting up with pride as a younger woman joined her, whom I guessed was her daughter judging by the similarities. _Same curled, blonde hair. Same deep blue eyes. Same frown that never seemed to leave their faces. Same look of arrogance. _

"Sympathy pains?" I questioned, dreading where this was going. I was no stranger to hate or bullies, and I knew just where she was planning on taking this. "Well, of course, dear. We've all been waiting for Mr. Wayne here to make a mistake." She cleared her throat, leaning in closer as to block out her words from the crowd. "I heard that one of his dates recently had a pregnancy scare. Of course, he denied it but really, it wouldn't surprise me if the world was full of a whole slew of Wayne's out there. I thought maybe he'd found a keeper in you, somehow, and got you knocked up. Although why he would pick _you," _She spat. "over my daughter is absolutely beyond me."

Before I could open my mouth to retort, Bruce had grabbed a hold of my arm gently and pulled me behind his tall frame, efficiently blocking me from their hateful gazes but not from their whiney voices. "Mrs. Harlow, I believe you owe Sarah an apology. I chose her over your _lovely_-" He spat out before finishing, throwing a uninterested glance to the lady next to her. "_daughter_ because she actually holds interest to me. She can hold a conversation for more than 5 minutes on a topic other than plans to spend my money and she's far more beautiful inside and out than your daughter would ever aspire to be. My date is more than a date. She's a lady and deserves to be treated as such. If only I could say the same about you two women." He turned back around, leading me through the room while I gaped at his back in shock. _What on earth just happened? _

"Bruce, what _was_ that?" I asked as we were seated at a table with another couple, most likely in their 50's. He let out a breath and nudged his head close to my ear, looking at the people in front of us to make sure they weren't spying like the rest of Gothom City after his speech.

"Mrs. Harlow and her daughter have had that coming for quite awhile. I just want to show them - and you - where I stand." He gave my temple a chaste kiss before pulling back, taking a sip of the water that the waiter had brought after listening in. "I'm not interested in anyone else, just so you know."

"I'm happy to hear that." I replied easily, smiling at him as he read the menu on the table, full of food more expensive than my whole month of rent at my old apartment. He didn't even blink an eye when he gave the waiter our order and I had no desire to know how much he was spending tonight. We had gotten the tickets for free, considering he was one of the most important guests and also planned to donate a hefty amount to the charity that it was funding this year, but the rest of the party and the clothing we had splurged on was most definitely not cheap.

We ate in mostly silence, the couple in front of us proving to be nice guests to be seated with. They kept to themselves for the most part, other than pausing their quiet conversation to compliment my dress or Bruce's tie, or make small-talk about what food Bruce recommended. Bruce had told me later on, when they had excused themselves to go to the rest-room, that they were from one of the smaller towns in Gothom and less well-known. The only reason that they chose to attend was because the charity was close to their heart, something I admired. They had been saving up money for the whole year to be able to make a large donation, opting to forego vacation and frivolous spending to be able to partake. We finished the food and soon, it was time for Bruce's quick speech. I stood up next to him begrudgingly, caught between being proud of him and happy to have the chance to get away for a few moments, to stop thinking about mobs and Alfonso and let Robin take care of it, and being anxious to be so close to the spotlight.

"Good evening, everyone." He began, a smile overtaking his face as the crowd looked at him with a mixture of adoration and curiosity, probably hoping he hadn't had too much to drink _again_ and hoping he wouldn't cause a scandal. "I hope you're all enjoying yourselves and getting prepared to donate to such a wonderful cause. Tonight, we'll be helping out a Gothom native, who put together not only this gala but this wonderful charity called Giving Hearts. All of the proceeds go to help disabled children, not just in Gothom City but in every single state in this country. They've set up several houses for these kids in need and as we all know, houses are very expensive and as are the medical instruments that they need to give these children the help that they deserve. Their goal for tonight would be to gain enough help pay off two houses that they recently bought, but of course, I know how giving and helpful this city is and I fully believe that we can help them exceed that goal. I've been given the first chance to give a check, so I'll be giving this," He pulled a small check out of his slack pocket, glancing over at me and tossing a wink before continuing. "to the wonderful Patsy Morris and her husband Mike, the founders of this charity. I hope this helps." Handing over the check to Patsy, who had moved over to stand next to our table by this time, in the middle of the spotlight shining brightly on top of her. She read the check carefully and slowly before putting a hand to her mouth, a sob breaking through.

"_$100,000.._" She sobbed, looking to Bruce for permission to say it louder. Upon seeing his nod, she took his microphone and pressed her hand to her eyes, carefully wiping them as to keep her makeup intact. "Bruce Wayne has donated the first $100,000 dollars to this charity. Thank you, oh thank you so much, Mr. Wayne!" Before she could completely break down into tears, Bruce gave her a small hug and pat on the back, nodding as she continued thanking him. "Don't mention it. You deserve it."

The rest of the night went well enough. Bruce received a few calls from Robin, letting him know that they were still staking out and nothing eventful happened. Alfonso was plotting away, we guessed, but Bruce promised me that he had a plan, as well, so I simply let myself enjoy the day out with Bruce. We had left the gala around midnight, before the true party had started, according to the rest of the guests who had filled their bellies with wine and began to dance drunkenly on the floor. _Not my idea of a good time anymore. _Bruce had taken the Porsche for the first time in months, claiming that he had a reputation to keep up and the BMW didn't cut it, but I secretly thought his fingers were just itching for the fancier car. We drove in silence for half of the ride, the radio playing softly in the background and streetlights filling the car with ambiance, lighting Bruce's face up just slightly, just enough for me to see the soft smile on his face.

"You seem happier. Happier than you were earlier." I noted, running a thumb over his scarred hand that was locked in my own.

"You seem to have a way of making that happen." As we pulled up into the Manor's driveway, he turned around and unbuckled, a hand coming to rest on my face as he pulled the other one to his chest. "I've been spending the last few years thinking all love ever does is shatter and end and ruin me, but I feel like I'm finally starting to heal from everything, even with the drama going on now with Alfonso. I just have this gut feeling that this is all going to work out and that I _finally_ have the chance to begin again - with you." He kissed me slowly when he finished, lips trapping my bottom one as I balled my fist into his collar, holding on for dear life. "I love you and I swear, the minute Alfonso is dealt with, I'm putting a ring on your finger because there isn't anything I want more than to make you my wife."

I kissed him back quickly, a huge smile spread across my face as I laughed breathlessly against his lips. "I can't wait, Mr. Wayne."


	17. Chapter 17

**Authors Note: Meh. Not sure what I think of this. Let me know!**

"Miss Dawson, wake up!" Alfred's face was my first sight as he shook my shoulders. His eyes were full of terror and anxiety, lit up by the alarm-clock on Bruce's nightstand next to me as he spoke, voice trembling so slightly I could barely hear it. As my eyes got used to the dark room, I saw a group men grab Alfred by the hands, gripping his tied-together arms tightly as one of them reached for me, tugging me out of the bed violently. "Let go of me! _Who are you? __**Where**__ is Bruce?!" _I quaked, a tremor rocking my spine as they pulled me towards the cave, not minding the fact that my body was slammed into the stair railings as they kept their rough grip. "Don't worry, _Miss Dawson,"_ One of them starting, a Gothomite accent laced with dangerous sarcasm, begging me to fight back. But if I had learned anything from my weeks in that basement with the Joker, it was to _never_ scream or act affected.

They wanted to hear you snap and break.

"Bruce is safe with Harley, of course." My heart sank when he laughed it out, the familiar name jolting me. _Harley Quinn...she's back. _

"_Ha-Harley Quinn?" _I choked out. The men pushed Alfred and I against the steel wall of the cave, not unlike the night weeks ago after one of the first attacks. I heard a _crack_ coming from next to me as Alfred cried out in agony, trying to grip his shoulder with his bound hands. "Enough crying, old man!" The largest of the men lifted his rifle towards Alfred's face, preparing to slam it against him but before I cried out, he was stopped. "You hurt him and Wayne may not agree to the deal. We need these two _alive_ and in decent shape or you are all dead, got it?" A man clad in all black strolled towards us, hands in his pockets as he gazed about the room before his stare landed on us. His resemblance to Alfonso was uncanny and I suddenly knew who had broken in such a well-protected area and how he had done it.

Alfonso's son, no doubt. _The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I guess. _

He seemed to float with pride when he moved to come even closer, face inches away from my own not unlike the way Bruce had curled closer during the night last night as he begged for a route out of his torture - a road to lead him out of his dreams. The man came _too_ close, hands grasping at my thin night-shirt to pull me to him. "I can see why Bruce fell in love so quickly." He hissed while a thumb came up to my cheek, grimy skin rubbing me face far too hard. My hands were tied, but my legs weren't, so before I could even stop myself, my knee was ramming into his groin, smile overtaking my face as he groaned in pain and fell to the ground.

"And I can see why Master Wayne wants you all gone so badly." Alfred seemed to have found his voice, seeming much more confident, seeing the obvious boss attempt to stand against a table. I saw him move from the corner of my eye, a pocket-knife slipping from his pocket slowly as he tucked it against the ropes and began breaking his way out of it, throwing a wink when he pushed it underneath the thick ropes when they came back to us.

"It's time to head out, get them in the BMW. I've already hot-wired it." The boss seemed to have found his voice yet again, quaking out the commands while he made grabs for me, his fingers piercing through my shoulder. "Where are we going?" I asked. He threw me in the back seat, my head hitting the leather wall of the car with a _thud!_

"We're going to Batman's final resting place, darling." I choked out a sob, the tears leaking freely from my eyes now as I felt my walls completely shatter, heart in my throat. "_No..no, no, you can't..._you can't kill him! Why are you doing this?! You want **me,** not Bruce!"

"Unless he's gone, you're going to stay safe up in that stupid manor of his and he's going to keep protecting you, _Dawson. _Besides, the only way we could get Harley on our side is to promise Batman's death. After all, he killed her little clown." His black eyes stared down at me, arrogance completely filling them as I tried to read him, try to figure out how a human could be so ruthless...so evil.

"How can you live with yourself?" I whispered. "All Bruce has done is try to help people like you live like normal people, give you a second chance..._he never kills._" Alfred was soon pushed into the car next to me, his body shielding me from the men. I feared for him so badly - how much could one man take at his age? After all he's been through, would he crack?

"Stay strong, Miss Dawson. Stay strong for Bruce, he'll need you."

We arrived at the abandoned theatre less than an hour later, I imagined. Right in the middle of the Narrows, where no one would give a second thought to the events about to happen. The windows were covered with old wooden pallets and quilts, gunshots and maniacal laughter already ringing joyfully from inside the old walls. I cringed at every shot, wondering which one was going to kill Bruce.

"Stop worrying, woman. Bruce isn't going to be shot - we've got a much better plan for him in store."

They took us out of the car quickly and shoved us into the building. Under any other circumstance, I would've admired the beautiful, intricate walls of a theatre that was once so great and beautiful, turned into nothing but a meeting place for crime. Somewhere in the space, a woman cackled and hummed a mindless song, preparing for the murder that would shake Gothom City and put the town on it's knees.

A piece of cloth was tied around my mouth before I could scream, pushing against the inside while I gagged over the smell of it and they covered my eyes with hands, cold from the winter chill. I felt a hand on the small of my back, gentle, this time - Alfred's, I guessed. "I'm here." The crisp, British voice murmured quietly, trying in vain not to annoy the gang of people that walked behind us, leading the way with guns prodding against our necks. "Shut it, old man. This gun's loaded."

Soon, I felt myself being forced into a chair, the wind from outside leaking from the broken stained-glass windows, and the gag was taken out of my mouth. Finally, I breathed in the fresher air and trembled with fear of what was coming. A large balcony sat over the lit up stage, spotlights shining brightly down on Alfred and I's chairs as a door clicked open and a woman waltzed out the side. Memories flooded my mind as I saw Harley Quinn, skipping across the wooden stage as if she was in the middle of the happiest day of her life - she was taking her revenge and obviously pleased with herself.

"Sarah Dawson," Her high-pitched, childish voice echoed across the room while she jumped off of the platform, standing directly in front of me with a red-lipped smile. "Or should I say Diamond, in honor of my Mr. J and your time with us?" She waved her bright green nails, tipped with purple paint as she walked over to Alfred, her smile turning into a devious grin at the sight of the older man with his head bowed and eyes staring at his shoes, trying his best not to look towards the balcony where he knew they would try to kill his charge, his son for all intents and purposes.

"Don't worry, Mr. Pennyworth. Bruce hasn't forgotten about you or his little lover over here. He's been practically begging on his hands and knees for you two and I'll try my best to get Alfonso to wait before he makes his grand arrival - I want you two to see everything. It would be a pity to die without _knowing Bruce's fate_, hmm?" With a tinkling laugh, she trotted back to the door, spotlight staying on her lithe frame.

"Now, let the show begin!" She sang.

Italian voices filled the room as the spotlight went to the edge of the balcony, and I muffled a sob when I saw the large shadow of a man walk into the light, a cord tied to his body as they pushed him to the railings. They let the gag loose, the material falling down onto the wooden stage silently as Bruce grew closer to the edge. He stared down at the floor, eyes closed and seemingly so at peace, as if he were praying.

"Loosen the ropes." Alfonso marched threw the door we had come from, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie, hair messy and his white shirt bloodstained. "He's fought hard enough, obviously. Poor man deserves the end. Doesn't he, Sarah?"

And at that moment, Bruce came catapulting down, stopping abruptly in the middle as the cord stretched and pulled. He yelled in agony as the pressure of the stop threw his body into the wall, promptly slamming his back, already in such terrible shape, into the concrete and probably re-breaking several bones. He cringed and fought against the ropes, managing to curl himself up against it and turning himself upright, hanging on just barely. You could hear his gasps of pains from the distance as he put his hand in his mouth, trying to ignore it, I knew.

"**No!" **Alfonso growled. "Why did he stop? _**Why did he stop? KILL HIM!"**_

Suddenly, roaring replaced the screams of Alfonso as the Tumbler came crashing into the thin walls, skidding to a stop just before it ran into Alfred's chair.

"Sarah, Alfred - _run!" _Bruce boomed as the same woman from weeks ago in the cave came pouncing out, untying the ropes with skilled hands, managing to get me out before Alfonso came for the kill. She smirked and punched him in the gut before claws from her gloves sank into his chest and he stepped back, coughing out blood as she punched him once more in his throat. "_In the Tumbler. Now."_ I stood there in silence, watching Bruce with a dazed expression and a glassy mind.

"_No, no, no,_ I can't leave him, I can't let him die!" I sobbed, hand on my mouth. The gang, led by Alfonso's son marched into the area, Harley lifting a knife to the rope on the balcony, her face filled with complete evil. We all heard the rope _snap_ and tear as Bruce flipped the rope. I turned my head, running as fast as I could to the Tumbler, desperate to remember him _alive_, when I heard the men scream and a deafening silence following.

Harley Quinn stood in silence as Bruce hung just barely onto the stone etching of the stage's wall and the rope fell, Alfonso's men all laying on the ground with glazed eyes.

"Selina!" Bruce bellowed, "What did you do?" He questioned. His voice was pained and tense, and I rushed to the top of the balcony, the staircase making my tired legs ache but I ignored the dull pain and focused on getting Bruce off of that wall and back with me. I knew Harley better than most people in that room, having seen her twist and turn into such a terrible creature all for the sake of the Joker, and I knew she wouldn't do a thing. Harley was nothing but a scared child and she would crack sooner rather than later.

"Poison, Brucey! Don't worry - they'll live!" She called out, winking towards our direction, surverying her job well done.

I finally reached the top, grabbing ahold of his hand. "There's more rope and cord up there - go get it and tie it to something heavy, just in case." He commanded. The second I turned my back, I heard the horrific sound of a body slamming against the cold, hard ground below and the telling feminine scream.

Harley, just like the Joker, committed suicide all for the sake of trying to murder someone. It seemed only fitting that they died the same way, so twisted that in their last moments, they both suffered the same mental torment that drove them to death.  
>I found the cord and lifted it with shaking hands, just barely capable of tying it to one of the bars on the balcony and tossed it to Bruce. Somehow, he managed to grab ahold of it and lift himself back up with one arm without delay, but you could see the pain he was attempting to mask on his face. I wondered what more they put him through before I saw him on the stage. The moment he crossed over the bars, it seemed that his pain was momentarily forgotten and a thing of the past as he embraced me, both of us sobbing and completely lost in the moment. I pulled his head down closer and closed the space, kissing him everywhere I possibly could - his mouth, his nose, his eyes, trying my best to just <em>be with him<em> and convince myself that he was alive. He chanted my name over and over in a whisper, rocking back and forth slowly while he hid his head in my shoulder, crying tears of complete and utter relief and letting the trauma of the day flow down with them. "Bruce, I'm here. Always here."

He pulled back, hands on my cheeks and stared down at my face, eyes trailing everywhere they could possibly go. "They didn't hurt you? You're okay?"

"I'm a bit shaken up and bruised but I'm fine. They didn't get far. Alfred...I think they broke Alfred's shoulder or at least knocked it out of place. He's been so strong but he's so worried about you."

"I didn't thi-" "Wayne! Get down here and help me with the ring leader of this circus!" The woman, now dubbed as Selina, called from the bottom, painted nails pointing to Alfonso who was laying on the ground, spluttering blood on the ground while her stilleto heel prodded his chest and nailed him down.  
>"Who is she?" I took his arm and allowed him to put more weight on me after untying all of the ropes. He had his back arched, leaning as much as he could to prevent putting too much weight on his back. <em>He'll need lots of PT for that, at the very least.<em> I wasn't even sure how he was standing, let alone walking, but we had no other choice. "She goes by Catwoman. An old friend of mine." He muttered.

"Call the cops, please, Selina. They'll take care of him. I just want to go home and I'm going to need to stop at a hospital, preferably quickly."

"John and Gordon are on their way. Not sure how long this guy will last, quite honestly. He's had quite a few melt-downs."

"Where is his son?" I cut in, remembering how ruthless he was to Alfred. Both men deserved to spend their lives in a tiny jail cell. "He killed himself in the other room about five minutes ago with a knife. It's gruesome, apparently he couldn't live without Papa over here."

Alfred stepped back into the building, flanked by Gordon and John Blake, Gothom's finest officers. At the sight of my exhausted and pale face, Alfred shook his head and leaned towards Bruce, whispering quietly. "_Master Wayne, let's get that girl home." _

Bruce and I walked to the BMW, having been given permission by Gordon to get him to the hospital as soon as possible. We both went to the back-seat, Bruce seeming to just collapse on the leather and let his head roll back onto the headrest. He sucked in a pained breath and shut his eyes, swallowing back bile as a wave of pain hit his back from sitting so quickly. "It hasn't been this bad in so long...so much for being back in shape." He laughed bitterly, bringing an arm around me. "Will you love me even when I get fat and out of shape again from my stupid back?"

"I'd love you through anything, Mr. Wayne."


	18. Chapter 18

**Authors Note: Hey, all! Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. I'm still a bit iffy on it but considering this is my first ever story, let alone almost 20 chapters long, I'm pretty happy with it. I've tossed around the idea of possibly writing a sequel, making a few one-shots involving Sarah and Bruce or even starting a Selina/Bruce fanfiction piece set after TDKR. I'm also considering dabbling in the Avengers area, so not sure! Let me know what you think, of course. Reviews make me happy!This story IS coming near to an end. I never wanted this to be a huge, long thing, just sort of a short story. I hope y'all are content with it and how it's played out.**

**PS: remember that I'm not a doctor nor do I know much about medical things, so this may not be perfect. I'm also trying a new perspective in this chapter so bear with me as I learn. It'll switch to Sarah's point of view pretty quickly. Anddddd there will be some little hints from The Dark Knight Rises - this story obviously ignores TDKR, but I just had to use some of the plot. None of it belongs to me! **

"I don't need anymore medicine, I'm fine." That seemed to be Bruce's typical speech whenever he was hurting, insisting that he was fine despite his cracked spine, several broken ribs and his bruised shoulders. The man could barely sit up in his bed after the adrenaline of the night wore off, but he absolutely insisted that he didn't need more medicine. Nurses pleaded with him until he finally nodded, just eager to sleep while Sarah sat next to him, eyes never leaving his large but so frail body laying on the hard hospital mattress. He sighed quitely whilst they injecting the IV of morphine, keeping his body numb from the pain in his shoulders and back. The only body part he could seem to move without a terrible amount of pain was his head, and even then his neck ached with the pressure. All he wanted to do was go home and let Sarah relax, make sure she was okay after watching those people die and almost witnessing his own death. And God forbid Alfonso and Harley's plan had of worked - he didn't even want to think about what they would've done to her after he finally died.

Alfred had long since let the hospital, opting to go home to the Manor to prepare things for Sarah if she were to choose to go home that night as well. (_Even though everyone knew she would refuse to leave Bruce's side.) _Bruce had been forbidden to leave his room for the next week or so, depending on how he healed and how the surgery that would take place the next morning worked. His back was left a mangled mess after the shock of falling so quickly and then just _stopping_ so quickly in mid air with the ropes and other gadgets tied to him. Not that it wasn't already in bad shape before. The new injuries were simply icing on the cake, something for Alfonso and his past gang to work with and use it to their advantage. And Bruce realized this, that his days in the cowl were coming to an end far sooner than he had wished. The only thing that kept him sane was the thought of leaving Gotham with Sarah forever, just like Alfred had told him he wanted him to do. _Head to Florence and start a family. _

Because in all honesty, the only thing Bruce had ever wanted was a family.

I woke up with a start, alarm clock blaring in my ear as my hand crept out of the blankets and smacked around the nightstand before a thicker arm came over, pushing my hand down as it's owner chuckled and turned the alarm off with well practiced ease. "Good morning." Bruce murmured, slanting his mouth over my temple gently. "It's always so nice to wake up to such a bubbly, happy person." He commented sarcastically as he sat up, back audibly cracking when he stretched. A grimace took over his face and he reached over to the cabinet on his side, finding the pain pills sitting on the top and swallowing both dry, laughing at my cringe. The pills were huge and I knew he hated them, claiming that they made him feel too tired all day long. But, doctor's orders. He'd been out of the hospital for almost 4 months and I knew he was just itching to get back into some kind of work, even if it _didn't_ involve a Batsuit and skipping around town late at night.

"Mmm, you know how excited I always am to wake up." I ignored the fact that I had morning breathe and my hair looked as if a rat had made a home in it and pressed a kiss to his lips, pulling away before he - _or me _- could get any other ideas regarding..._that._ After his accident, I had basically moved into his room but slept on the chaise near the bed unless he woke up with a nightmare. His nightmares frequently came around, even now with Alfonso gone, and he was way too likely to get hurt one night while thrashing around with his bad back. I tried not to coddle him too much (_even though Alfred and I secretly wondered if he was still so upset about being coddled by me, considering he accepted help a lot easier nowadays) _so he knew I still thought he was...well, _strong._ And he is, without a doubt.

"We need to get up, don't forget we have that meeting about Dick today." Dick Grayson, a young boy in foster care that came to our little daycare for trouble kids, had become a more permanent fixture in our lives in the last couple of months and we hoped to make the deal even more permanent with paperwork this evening, if he so wished. I had never expected Bruce to be so eager to become a father figure, but he seemed to pick up on it rather quickly when visiting work after his own meetings. He couldn't stay away from some sort of work for long, and even though he mostly just stayed sitting down and resting, filing paperwork and attending meetings at Wayne Enterprises, he had gotten things done and a lot of things fixed that hadn't received enough attention since Batman took over his life. When he got off from work, he came to pick me up and typically spent a few extra minutes conversing with the children, and unsurprisingly, he clicked so well with Dick, having known his parent John and Mary Grayson quite well.

And it seemed as though an adoption was well on it's way of being final, something that had been primarily Bruce's decision, with my blessing, of course. Dick was going to be moved to another home far away from the city unless Bruce stepped in and apparently, he seemed to think that a place in the Manor was waiting on the little boy and Gotham officials agreed that the Wayne Manor was the best possible place for him as well. Living with the prince of Gotham was quite a feat.

And soon, I hoped I could become a permanent fixture in the Manor as well, not just by feelings and spirit.

A couple hours later, we had the paperwork filed and the meeting was over, a smiling Dick Grayson there at the head of the table, nodding happily when asked for his opinion on the situation. "_Bruce is the best! So is Sarah and Alfred!" _He had gushed. "_I want to live with them...only them."_

The adoption was expected to take-place in the next few months, provided that no family members stepped up and asked for custody. And if that happened, we'd fight. I had hoped in vain that it would happen sooner, before Christmas, but considering it was already the 10th of December, I knew that it would never happen. Adoptions are too long and tedious of a thing to happen so quickly, and for good reason, I knew.

Bruce pulled into a parking spot on the side of the road on one of the main streets after the meeting, breaking me out of my thoughts, The dark corners lit up by Christmas lights strung on the poles and families skipping around on the sidewalks. I glanced at him, curiosity shining in my eyes. _This is definitely not planned. _"Bruce? What are we doing?" I laughed as he got out, trotting over to my side of the car before I could open it myself and guiding me out onto the slick pavement covered in newly fallen snow. "Careful, it's slippery." He warned.

"Just thought we'd take a walk - it's a nice night, besides, we need to celebrate everything going so well today in the meeting, right?" He nudged my shoulder with his own gently, grabbing his wooden cane from the car before shutting the door and taking my arm in his, leading the way. We received looks and people pulled out phones and cameras, asking questions, mostly for Bruce, as we passed by but he didn't give them a second glance, eyes focused on my own with a happy twinkle but his palms were sweating just slightly, telling me that he was nervous about something. We walked mindlessly for a few moments until I tugged him towards a window, decorated finer than any of the others. The ornaments sparkled against the window, flashing their lights on Bruce and I. Suddenly, I felt Bruce release my hand, moving to grab something out of his coat before moving farther away and propping his cane against the wall.

He slowly dropped to his knee and pulled out the finest ring I had ever seen, and the cameras flashes and gasps from the crowd behind us seemed to disappear completely.

"Sarah, I'm not big on long, cheesy speeches out in public like this, but I know _you_ love them, so I'm going to step out of my comfort zone a bit." He flashed a smirk my way before continuing, taking a look at the large crowd of people forming as my mouth gaped open, tears threatening to leak out of my eyes. "I love you more than anything - you've been there for me through thick and thin, and I realized few months ago that I can't live without you. Frankly, I should've done this sooner. It would be an honor if you would be my wife. Sarah, will you marry me?"


	19. Epilogue

**Wow - I can't believe this is going to be the last chapter of Discovering Batman! A sequel is officially under works so make sure you keep an eye out for "Leaving Gothom" which will feature our two favorites, Bruce and Sarah Wayne with their newly adopted son, Dick Grayson. This will be a shorter chapter as it's just the epilogue. I hope you all have enjoyed this and that you'll stick around for part 2! Much love! **

**PS: Some of y'all were complaining over Sarah seeming to be a damsel in distress - have no fear. That is all changing! I'm having fun with getting her character developed more and more!**

The sky was completely grey, save for the bright flashes of yellow as lightning struck somewhere close by - fitting, it seemed. God seemed to cry His tears along with Alfred and Bruce, two strong men who tried keeping the tears from leaking with no luck. In less than 3 hours, we'd be boarding a plane to Florence, Italy, and leaving Gothom City behind forever. Alfred had spent the whole night before in relaxation with us. Playing one last video game with Dick, having one last argument with Bruce, sharing one last hug with me, at least for the next few years. For the sake of safety and subtlety, we would have very little to no contact with Gothom or it's inhabitants. The whole city proclaimed that Batman had died and Bruce Wayne..well, no one knew much about him. The adoption went smoothly, to everyone's shock. No one expected Bruce Wayne to adopt the young boy, let alone fall in love with a simple civilian and move away from his beloved city. Of course, there were rumors. People talked, as usual, saying that Bruce had fallen back into the grips of alcohol, started dabbling into drugs, headed to a rehab or perhaps sent away from the oh-so-patient butler in charge of the Manor.

But we knew the truth.

John Blake, always such a help, had chosen to take over as the newest hero. Gothom could never go without a masked vigilante, it seemed. So Robin took the city by storm as statues were built in Batman's likeness as a celebration of life and his selflessness - one man gone for millions to live.

Alfred moseyed slowly into the drivers seat of the black Lamborghini as Bruce and I slipped in the back, Dick in between our seats in his booster seat, practically vibrating from his excitement. All he expected was a new beginning, an adventure with his new mom and dad. He had fit in rather well already, molding easily to the new traditions and daily life in the Manor. He seemed to attach himself to Bruce the very first day at home, helping him with everything from tying his ties to working on the cars. We practically had to use the jaws of life to seperate him from Bruce for a much-needed nap or when Bruce had to leave for work. And despite Bruce's quietness on the matter, I loved seeing his eyes sparkle when Dick ran to him and smiled when he caught a glimpse of his car pulling up in the drive. And I knew, even if Bruce refused to admit it for the sake of seeming too _domestic,_ he was looking forward to finally getting the retirement he deserves in Italy.

Still, even through the happiness of the moment, we couldn't help but swipe away tears as we boarded the plane, leaving Alfred and the city behind us.

But the sun was finally rising and we flew through breaking clouds, sun leaking through the cracks as promise and hope filled the plane. _Time for a new beginning. _

I felt Bruce wrap his arms around Dick and I, pulling us both into his side as he peered out of the window, pressing his lips against my hair. "Welcome to Italy, Mrs. Wayne." And I had never been happier or more eager to begin a new chapter in life. Dick dozed while Bruce and I stayed quiet in reverence, the city of Italy coming into sight as the other passengers looked out the windows and took photos of the beauty that was below us, thousands of feet away yet _just close enough to reach it._

Less than an hour later, we were stepping off onto Italian soil, Dick in Bruce's arms and my arm stretched across Bruce's back, the brace straining against his button-up, cane in hand. He had a long road to full recovery, but I knew we could manage it together. We both had so many things to get past - his mostly physical, mine mostly emotional. And Lord knows, the little boy with his head hidden from the bright blue sky had issues of his own. We weren't the most perfect, simple family, but I wouldn't trade any of the members for the world.

_Finally,_ my life seemed to be looking up. We weren't famous billionaires anymore - our apartment was smaller than one of the rooms in the Manor, we didn't have a butler or lavish parties to attend. But we had love. _And that,_ I thought as we got into a taxi, feeling Bruce's lips brush against my own, the most perfect welcome to a new start, _that's plenty enough._


	20. Chapter 20

The sequel to Discovering Batman is now published and can be found on my profile, it is titled Leaving Gothom. I hope you go read the first chapter and enjoy it along with me as I write it!

Prologue:

Leaving Gothom City had been one of the hardest decisions either one of us had ever made. The city had molded us, torn us to pieces and built us back up again. It held so many terrible memories and so many awful ones - it seemed to hold the pen of our lives and wrote our stories in such different, unique ways. The city that had once held so much life and passion had been destroyed by too many evil men, but somewhere along the way, it found it's place in the world once again and rose despite the odds. But suddenly, three of it's inhabitants had realized that a chapter had finally ended and another begged to be written, blank pages awaiting them full of bright future, heartache, loss, additions and plenty of angst, as always. But in the end, there always seemed to be a happily ever after just waiting, as long as you are willing to keep on keeping on and wait to be rescued from cliffhangers.


End file.
